Where the Moon Isn't
by siriusoriion
Summary: Werewolf!Hermione. Remione. In which there are strange magical happenings, time and dimension travel, and other wolfy things. "Hermione mused, in some detached part of her brain, over how fitting it was that she was going to die on Friday the 13th. She'd never been much of a superstitious person, so she supposed this was life's cruel way of punishing her with the irony."
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

 _ **March 13, 1998**_

"You ready to have some fun, little girly?" The thick, rasping voice of Fenrir Greyback was distant in Hermione's ears. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, huddled in a heap on the wet floor of some dark recess of Malfoy Manor. She didn't answer him.

"I asked you a question, you filthy Mudblood!" He leapt towards her with a snarl, wrenching her head back by her hair and leaning forward to press his face against her skin. A choked whimper escaped her when she felt his foul teeth skimming across her neck, but she still didn't answer. He inhaled deeply, taking a moment to move his lips obscenely over the pulse at her throat before tossing her viciously back onto the floor of her cell, laughing all the while.

"It's nothing to me," he said, baring his sharpened teeth in some semblance of a smile. "I'll have you screaming soon enough."

Hermione mused, in some detached part of her brain, over how fitting it was that she was going to die on Friday the 13th. She'd never been much of a superstitious person, so she supposed this was life's cruel way of punishing her with the irony. She had been held captive at Malfoy Manor for over four days, now. The first two were spent being tortured mercilessly by Bellatrix Lestrange- Crucio'd to within an inch of her sanity, then carved up with a tiny cursed blade, punished for every question she didn't answer, and even the ones she did. The knife was wickedly sharp, and her wounds burned hot on her skin even days later. She didn't suppose it would matter if they ever healed, since she'd be dead long before anyone else would see 'Mudblood' carved into her arm. She was vaguely proud that even through the horrors inflicted on her, she hadn't given up Harry and Ron, or their Horcrux mission. The sword of Gryffindor was safe. _"It's a copy, it's just a copy,"_ she'd screamed, but even when Griphook the goblin had corroborated her lie, the torture didn't stop.

In some miraculous stroke of unprecedented luck, Dobby the house elf had appeared from nowhere to rescue the trio from the Manor. Hermione had allowed herself one bursting moment of hope before the gigantic crystal chandelier had collapsed from the ceiling, directly on top of her. She was immediately knocked unconscious, and when she woke, it was here: a dark, wet cell with only Fenrir Greyback for company. "You're mine," he'd told her in a lecherous whisper, "my prize, my _reward._ The Dark Lord rewards those who serve him well, little girl."

He'd kicked her around and viciously threatened her for two days now, but she knew he'd been waiting for tonight- Friday the 13th. The full moon. She hoped Harry and Ron were alive. She hoped they wouldn't risk coming back for her- she'd be dead soon, anyway.

Greyback was stalking around and around along the walls, snarling to himself. There were no windows in the cell, so it was impossible to tell how long she had before he transformed- before he slaughtered her. He stopped and grinned at her, and for a terrible moment Hermione wondered if he was reading her thoughts.

"You don't think I'm going to kill you, do you girly?" He took a step closer and she shrank back reflexively. "Now why on earth would I do that? I'd rather like to keep you, I think. No, I won't kill you. I'll tear your pretty little body to shreds, I will. You'll be so mangled your body will be forced to accept the virus to survive… and then you'll be one of mine." He stepped even closer, mouth still stretched wide in a terrible grin, but only a moment later his face contorted, teeth still bared in a horrible grimace. His whole body stiffened and he fell to his knees, groaning. _The moon._

Hermione gathered every last pathetic remnant of strength she had left and lurched to her feet, heart pounding wildly. The cell that she was held in was made up of four dark stone walls with a single arched wooden door in one of them- always locked, and reinforced by strips of thick iron bolted up and down across it. She threw herself against the door, wrenching at the handle fruitlessly. Behind her, Greyback's moans had evolved into shouts of agony. She whirled around at the sickening sound of snapping bones and stared in terror at the man- now wolf- on the floor before her, snarling as his teeth sharpened and elongated, bursting from his mouth. His last scream morphed into an earsplitting lupine howl, and Hermione slammed her back against the door again, her lips open, but her voice too far gone to scream. Her mind was awash with thoughts of wandless magic, trying desperately to remember some theory or silent incantation to save her life; she was unable to summon even the tiniest flicker of magical energy.

The enormous grey wolf standing in front of her leveled its sharp amber eyes on her small form, its fur rising as it bared its teeth and growled menacingly. Its head rose up to well above the level of Hermione's waist, and its pointed ears were laid flat back against the skull in unmistakable warning. She fought to keep her eyes open and choked out a terrified sob, her feet scrabbling on the wet floor as if she could melt through the solid door behind her. It felt like an eternity of standing there helplessly, staring at the beast in front of her, before the werewolf finally rounded on her. Greyback leapt towards her faster than she could react, his long claws raking a path from her face down to her shoulder. That time she did scream, her throat splitting in protest, the sound rising from her hoarse and strangled. She could feel the blood already pouring from the wounds, dripping hot down her face and into her eyes. There was barely time for the pain of the first gashes to set in before he was on her again, his heavy body knocking her back against the wall with a crash. She tried in vain to kick at his throat, but her head cracked loudly against one of the iron bars across the door. Her vision went blurry just as the werewolf's teeth tore roughly into her left side. The wolf's jaws tightened and he shook his head viciously, his long teeth tearing deep wounds into her flesh. Pain lanced through her body like poison- which, Hermione supposed, it was. The fire in her arm from Bellatrix's cursed cuts was nothing compared to the agony of Greyback's bite.

He wrenched his head back only to close his jaws on her a second time- this time on her wrist- and she screamed again as she felt bones snap under the pressure. Somewhere in a distant recess of her mind, Hermione thought she heard the bangs and crashes of spellfire. She was starting to fade from consciousness, and the rake of claws across her back faded to a dull burn along with the rest of her senses. She was so far gone that when the heavy door exploded into a million splinters behind her, she only sagged onto the floor and squinted her eyes against the sudden brightness flooding the tiny cell. Greyback let out an earsplitting howl, but it was abruptly cut off by a flash of brilliant green light, silhouetted against three shadowy figures. The world was spinning around her- Hermione felt a strange mix of relief and fear of her unknown saviors, but her thoughts were quickly overtaken by the pull of unconsciousness. The last thing she heard was the sound of shouting voices, muffled by the blood pounding in her ears, before she slipped into blackness.

* * *

Some undetermined amount of time passed before Hermione woke up with a start, roused to consciousness by the sounds of drawn out howls and splintering wood. She gasped and tried to leap from the bed, but her feeble attempt at sitting up was foiled by the agonizing pain pulsing over her left hip. She tried to open her eyes but they were covered by some kind of bandage- _or blindfold,_ she thought for a panicked moment- so that everything was bathed in blackness. Her head shook wildly from side to side, even as a woman's voice spoke her name in soothing tones.

"'Ermione," she heard the voice say, "'Ermione, love, you are safe now. We 'ave you."

Suddenly the room was pierced with another howl, and Hermione thrashed again. She opened and closed her mouth silently at first, trying to force the syllables out through her ruined throat- "G… G... Grey-"

"Shhh, 'Ermione, eet is not Greyback. You are safe. He is gone now," said the woman. _Fleur?_ "You should sleep now. Here, you should sleep." Hermione felt a cool liquid slide between her lips and instinctively swallowed- _Dreamless Sleep._ She almost immediately started slipping back into unconsciousness, the sounds of the room fading around her.

Through her haze, she heard a vaguely familiar voice cut into the conversation, sounding stressed.

"Could you _do something about him?_ This was the worst possible place for her to be after everything she just went through-"

"…fucking _tried_ , okay, I can't go in there without getting torn to shreds- he can _smell_ her, he's going mad…"

"Harry?" Hermione mumbled weakly. "Sirius?"

If they heard her, she never knew- sleep claimed her before she heard a response.

* * *

 _ **March 17, 1998**_

It was three days before Hermione woke again. When she did, she ignored the dull pain in her wrist to reach for the bandage that was still blocking her sight, desperate to remove it and take in her surroundings. She noted with annoyance that the stiff gauze was glued to her skin with a mixture of dried blood and sticky ointment, but she had only struggled with it for a few seconds before a second pair of hands swooped in to help. It peeled away from her skin with a rather uncomfortable tug and her field of vision was flooded with sunlight.

The sudden brightness made her eyes water, and Hermione blinked away the remnants of sleep and tears to be met with a set of brilliantly green eyes, framed in familiar black glasses.

"Harry?" She asked hoarsely. The boy immediately clasped one of her small hands in both of his and scooted his chair closer to her side.

"Yeah, it's me," he said, giving her a worried smile. "You're awake… fucking hell, you're _awake."_

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. When she opened them again, she didn't look at Harry- she turned her head this way and that, trying hard to take in all her surroundings. She was lying on a narrow bed made with light blue linens, centered in what appeared to be a small bedroom. Old, yellowed lace curtains hung over a tall window, letting in the sunlight that had temporarily blinded her. The room was nearly empty except for the bed, a small bedside table, and the chair that Harry was seated in; it didn't take her long to peruse its contents- far less time than she needed to gather her thoughts. When she finally dragged her eyes back up to meet Harry's, he was still staring at her.

"Yeah," she said at last, "I'm awake. Where am I? What… am I dead?" Her voice was scratchy and she winced at the pain in her throat. Harry immediately handed her a vial filled with a deep purple potion. She didn't drink it- just tilted the vial to one side and watched as the viscous liquid slowly moved in the glass.

"No. You're not dead, thank fucking Merlin." His grip on her hand tightened. "That'll help with your throat," he said, gesturing to the potion in her hand. She sniffed it tentatively and grimaced- it smelled like strong cough syrup- but swallowed it all the same, and felt her torn throat immediately mend. She sighed gratefully and Harry smiled in response.

"We didn't want to feed you too many potions in your sleep," he explained.

"Who's _we_? Where am I?" Hermione tried to sit up and felt a cold rush of pain shoot through her body. She moaned and lay back down on the pillow, closing her eyes again.

"Well, first, you aren't dead," she heard Harry repeat. "To answer your second question, we're at Lupin Cottage. It was… Sirius Apparated us here. First place he thought of, besides Grimmauld Place. And you know how he feels about going back there."

Hermione furrowed her brow- the movement drew attention to how peculiarly stiff her right temple felt, and the memory of Greyback's claws raking down her face flashed to the forefront of her mind. "What happened, Harry? Tell me what happened… Starting from when… when you all left the Manor."

His hands fiddled with hers, still clasped between them, for several long moments.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered, pleaded. "I'd hoped… but I didn't know…"

"It was Dobby," he finally said. He seemed to have difficulty finding the words. "He… house elf magic works where we couldn't- he got through the wards. He Apparated in, but you knew that. He got Luna out, and Dean and Ollivander- they were all in the cellar, with us. Then he came back and we tried to get to you but we… the chandelier fell, and then Bellatrix had you and Vol… _You-Know-Who_ was nearly there- you were blacked out and we Apparated out." His voice was choked with emotion, and Hermione cracked one eye open to examine his face.

"I'm not… I understand, Harry," she said. "You did what you had to do. You're the most important-"

"Don't, Hermione." His hands were gripping hers so tight she flinched, and he quickly released them and swallowed thickly.

"We went to Shell Cottage- Bill and Fleur's," he continued in a heavy tone. "Dobby didn't make it. Ron was splinched when we Apparated, he was in bad shape- he's still there. If I'd lost all of you at once, I'd… I don't… We spent four days, the four days that you were alone, we were trying to break the wards to get back to the Manor. Bill breaks curses for a _career_ and even he- it took- we came as soon as we could." His low voice was absolutely dripping with guilt and pain. I can't- I'm sorry we were too late, I'll never-"

"I'm alive. You weren't too late."

"You're a fucking _werewolf_ now, Hermione, you can't tell me I wasn't too bloody late."

And there it was- the elephant in the room, thrust into the light. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut even tighter, trying her hardest to ignore the aches in her body, growing stronger by the minute. A few tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes and drifted awkwardly down her cheeks, diverted by the smudges of ointment still coating her face.

"What happened when you broke the wards," she pleaded, not ready to confront her new affliction just yet.

She heard Harry shift in his chair, heard him running his hands through his hair like he did when he was anxious. "There isn't much to tell, really. It was- Sirius thought that Greyback might want to… that he'd wait for the full moon. We had hoped we would get there before it- before he-" His voice cracked with emotion again. "Bill, Sirius and I fought our way in. Greyback's dead." Harry seemed to be waiting for some kind of reaction from her. When she didn't say anything, he continued. "When we got you, Sirius brought us here. He wasn't thinking about- well, Remus was transformed, here- locked in the attic, and he'd taken his Wolfsbane but-"

"He smelled me," Hermione said, recalling the disjointed words from her drifting consciousness on the night of the attack. She turned her face and looked at Harry- he was nodding.

"Yeah. He could smell the- well, his wolf could sense yours, I guess. That and all the blood. It was… we were really afraid, Hermione. We didn't think you'd make it."

She forced a watery smile. "Well, I made it," she said. "Thank you for… for coming back."

Harry ran both hands through his hair yet again, forcing it all up in different directions. Hermione's smile turned a touch more genuine at the sight.

"Now that you're awake you'll heal a bit better," Harry said. "Since you can take more potions now. Eat, too. You had a broken wrist, and three cracked ribs. Fleur was here, that first night. She's a wonder with healing spells. She fixed the bones for you, and some of the cuts. She couldn't- the knife wounds were-" He trailed off, frowning, and she followed his gaze down to her forearm. _Mudblood._ "They healed, but the scars…"

"It's alright. I am a Mudblood." Harry narrowed his eyes and she cut him off before he could argue. "No, I am. I'm a Mudblood, and I'm proud of it. _'Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you,'"_ she quoted, watching as he shifted uncomfortably.

"The bites, too. Those wounds are cursed. They're taking a long time to heal, and you'll have scars… I'm so sorry…"

Hermione held up her hand in front of her, studying the twisted red gashes along her inner arm, just below the knife wounds.

"It doesn't really matter, does it," she said. "The scars, I mean. I'm a Mudblood. I've got the scars to prove it. I'm a werewolf, now, too."

Harry clenched his jaw, and she twisted her lips in a ghost of a smile. " _'Never forget what you are,'"_ she said again.

* * *

 **NOTE:** Hermione quotes Tyrion Lannister from _A Game of Thrones._ I had this Remione idea and I've been writing nonstop for like 3 weeks now. Would love for you guys to review and let me know what you think! Thanks so much for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE:** Thanks for the love on the first chapter, friends :) We get more Remus in this chapter! Make sure to let me know what you think so far!

 **CHAPTER 2**

 _ **March 20, 1998**_

The quiet conversation with Harry marked Hermione's last moments of relative peace at Lupin Cottage. Ever since she'd woken from her three-day Dreamless Sleep-induced haze, there had been a constant stream of visitors occupying the tiny chair beside her bed. Fleur came every three hours at first, fussing over Hermione's slowly healing wounds and insisting that she drink potion after potion to help ease the pain. Hermione finally snapped at her and she retreated gracefully, but the potions continued to make their way onto her bedside table at regular intervals. Ron came by a day later, limping slightly and apologizing even more than Harry had for leaving her behind. Bill and Sirius took their turns at her bedside as well, the former attempting to comfort her with his shared experience with Greyback, and the latter offering her firewhisky-laced tea in place of her pain potions. They meant well, all of them- but the attention only made Hermione sick to her stomach. She hated feeling like the others pitied her- and ever since her attack, the feeling had been constant.

In truth, the evidence of her attack was fading. As much as it could, at any rate. She knew that the scars left by Greyback would never fade completely, but they were healing. On the third day, she was sick and tired of lying in bed all day, and feeling strong enough to stand, so she slowly edged out of bed and made her way to the bathroom across the hall from her bedroom. Her body was sore and her muscles weak from disuse, but she hobbled all the way there without any help and tossed her change of clothes onto the floor. She braced her weight with her hands on the countertop and allowed herself a moment of triumph- until she lifted her eyes to the mirror above the sink and took in her own reflection for the first time since before she'd been captured. Her throat tightened and she stared at herself, frozen, her wrists numbing from the force of her grip on the edge of the counter.

Her already unruly curls were matted with blood and the greasy remnants of ointment, tangled wildly in a halo around her head. She reached one hand up and pushed it back from her face, tilting her head this way and that to survey the damage. Two long pink lines stretched diagonally from her right temple, through her eyebrow and down to her chin. They faded for a stretch before reappearing across her left collarbone, ending at the shoulder. Swallowing thickly, she stepped back to peel off the borrowed button down shirt she wore and toss it unceremoniously to the floor. Her flannel pants and knickers quickly followed, and when she looked back to the mirror, she was naked and braced for the worst. The twisted map of scars across her abdomen were the worst- the raised purple mark left from Dolohov's curse stretched down her middle and pointed towards the bite marks like a beacon. The pale, flawless skin of her right side stood in stark contrast to the left. There was the unmistakable ghost of teeth marks across her flesh, torn haphazardly across the curve of her hip, rising up to twist over her ribcage, leaving raised pink and silver in its wake. Hermione knew she'd have similar marks across her back, where Greyback's claws had slashed her just before she lost consciousness. She closed her eyes for several long moments, trying to tell herself what she'd told Harry only days earlier- _"They don't really matter, do they? The scars…"_

Her own voice was still ringing in her head as she stepped away from the mirror and turned on the hot water. It was still there when the bathroom started to fill with steam and she climbed into the narrow tiled stall, and when she sat down on the floor under the scalding hot stream and pressed her forehead to her knees. It only faded when her body started to shake with deep, wracking sobs and every sound dimmed but her own choking gasps and the water pounding against the tile. She wept until the water went cold and there were no more tears left for her to cry, and then she stood and wiped the fog from the glass and stared at herself in the mirror again.

"The scars don't matter," she said aloud. _They don't. I'm alive and Ron's alive and Harry's alive and we have Horcruxes to find. The scars don't matter._

She picked up a comb from the pile of belongings she'd tossed to the floor and began to methodically detangle her hair, working through the snarls with long practiced patience. _They don't matter._ When she'd finished and her curls lay smooth and damp across her shoulders, she braided it all away from her face and traced her fingers lightly across the lines on her temple. _They don't matter. I'm alive. And that's the last time I'll cry over them,_ she decided. _Never forget what you are._

* * *

When Hermione padded back across the hallway into her bedroom, Remus was already seated in the chair beside the bed, a stack of books in his lap. She stopped in the doorway for a moment and looked at him before continuing into the room and settling herself back onto the bed. Someone had made it in her absence, she noted with a twinge of annoyance. She hated feeling waited upon.

"I was wondering when you'd come to see me," she said with a wan smile.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want to see me, after everything. I'm sorry if my absence seemed like avoidance," he said earnestly. "That wasn't my intention."

"Honestly, you're the only one who's given me space. I think that's what I needed, at least for awhile."

Remus ran a hand awkwardly over his hair and shot her a concerned glance. "If you still need time, I can always come back. I just thought you'd… I mean…" He lowered his voice. "I know what you're going through, Hermione. The others are here for you, too, you know that. But I know you'll have questions, and-"

"Thank you, Remus," Hermione said honestly. "You don't need to leave. I'd appreciate the company of someone who isn't fawning over me, actually."

He grinned at her and held out the stack of books in his arms. "I brought reading material."

"Werewolf books?"

"Yeah. I hope that's okay. I imagined you'd want to do your own research. I'll answer any questions you have for me as well, of course." He handed over a small leather bound book titled _Human or Wolf: Lycanthropy Through the Ages_ and leaned back in the chair. Hermione accepted the tome with a smile and settled back against her pillows to read. She knew the logistics of lycanthropy, of course. She'd studied werewolves extensively in her third year, when she first discovered Remus's condition. She knew that she'd transform every month and that her health would directly correlate to the full moon, and she knew she'd need to take the Wolfsbane potion in order to keep her human consciousness during the transformations. The fact that she was now a werewolf made her even more personally curious about those animal qualities, specifically in relation to other werewolves. _"His wolf sensed yours,"_ Harry had said. Hermione didn't sense any kind of wolf within herself- not yet, at any rate. She opened the book and began to read. They spent a long time in comfortable silence, both reading. The only sounds were the soft rustle of turning pages and Hermione's occasional fidgeting in her bed. When she finally reached a section on what seemed to be wolf senses, she leaned closer to the page.

 _'_ _Those infected with Lycanthropy will often experience heightened senses even in the human aspects of their lives, typically beginning after their first transformation. These effects particularly include senses of hearing and smell, but vision can also be positively affected. While these changes are magnified in the days nearest to the full moon, most Lycanthropes experience them, to some degree, at all times. These 'wolf senses' are increased with the proximity of other werewolves, due to pack instincts.'_

Hermione frowned at the page. She had yet to experience her first transformation, which also explained why she had yet to notice any of the wolflike "side effects" of her condition. She wondered if Remus had to deal with them constantly- it must be maddening to have such increased awareness all the time. The know-it-all part of her that still lurked beneath her war-weary exterior was eager for the full moon to pass so she could study the effects through personal experience. _Maybe I'll write a book._

* * *

Hermione and Remus settled into a routine over the next several days. He'd knock softly on her bedroom door just after lunch, armful of books in hand, and they'd sit in companionable silence to read the afternoon away. The texts were all fairly informative, though Hermione felt as if she wouldn't be completely satisfied without making her own notes and comparisons on her experiences. She found herself growing tired of reading description after description of painful transformations and the effects of werewolf bites. _I've already got pretty indisputable firsthand experience with werewolf bites,_ she thought dryly. _Now bonds and pack dynamics… that's something else._ Something that each book mentioned but failed to go into sufficient detail on was, in fact, pack interaction. The fourth time she came across it, Hermione set her book down in her lap and decided to ask about it.

"Remus," she said hesitantly, "what can you tell me about- well, wolf packs?" She supposed it would be relevant information, considering she and Remus were living under the same roof for now.

The man frowned as if to himself. "I spent a great deal of time running with werewolf packs during the first war," he said slowly. "It was… not always a pleasant experience, to say the least. In fact it was hardly pleasant at all. I was undercover, you see, flitting from pack to pack. Each group has its Alpha, and they don't take kindly to outsiders."

"Alpha? The dominant wolf?"

"To a degree. The Alpha is the leader of a pack. You could say that, but mostly they command a sort of respect. That's where the dominance factor comes from. The others recognize the leader and act accordingly." He paused. "It isn't always just a matter of submission, though. A lot of the wolves I ran with had… unsavory motivations. In those cases, they fought amongst themselves and the winners abused the power. But you've got those types in every group. Wizard. Muggle. Werewolf."

"So they don't like outsiders because… you weren't willing to submit to them, and that made you a challenge?"

Remus nodded. "I was looking to integrate myself for information, of course, but I didn't want to actually live that way. Some of those groups are- well, they've embraced the Lycanthropy too fully. Lost sight of their human side, so to speak. Greyback was that way. It's how he was so controlled, all the time- attacking to maim, not to kill."

"Like with me." Hermione ran her fingers absently over the scars on her wrist.

"Yes, like with you."

"Remus," she said again, "are we… would we be considered a pack?"

A surprised expression briefly took hold of his features, but it quickly smoothed into one of quiet contemplation. "That's a good question," he said slowly. "I've never… I'm not an Alpha. But then, I've never… this is rather a different situation, isn't it."

"You _would_ be the leader," she said earnestly. "You are, and you're taking care of me through all of this. When we transform together, then maybe our wolves will-"

"I'm not sure that that's a good idea, Hermione."

She looked up at him in alarm. "What? Of course it is, I'm not- I can't do this alone, Remus. I've been counting on being with you and with Sirius…"

"Sirius could still stay with you, as Padfoot. I just- it's like you said. There's no telling how we'll react to one another."

"We'll have taken the Wolfsbane," she pointed out.

He gave a rather undignified snort. "Fat lot of good that did, that first night they brought you here. One whiff of you and I was out of control. If that happened when you were physically present…" He trailed off.

"Maybe you would have calmed down if I was there."

"Or maybe I would have attacked you."

"It won't be fair for you to be alone, without Sirius," she argued. Remus only smiled sadly at her.

"I did this alone for many years, Hermione. Truly, I'll be fine."

"Please, Remus?" She looked at him pleadingly. "I'm… I'm _scared,"_ she said in a small voice. "Just… can we try? If… if something happens, we'll never transform together again."

The man continued to look at her with a sad expression, and she added quietly "You've done this alone and I know how it was for you, and… and maybe this could be a good thing. For both of us."

He finally sighed and ran a hand through his graying hair worriedly. "Alright. We'll try. We'll have to figure out precautions in case… in case things start to go south, but… we'll try it."

Hermione hugged the book to her chest and beamed at him, nervous tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "Thank you, Remus," she said. "I know the others are here for me too, but it's different with you. You _are_ my pack, even if... well, it helps to think of it that way."

He furrowed his brow slightly at her words, but smiled all the same.

* * *

 _ **April 3, 1998**_

As the days wore on, Hermione started to feel peculiar- more so than was normal as of late, in any case. She felt better but also worse at the same time, if it were possible. The injuries she'd sustained during her torture at the manor had all but healed in a few days, (at least externally), and in time, her werewolf wounds had entirely smoothed over into lightly raised labyrinths of dark pink and silver scar tissue. The last to fade were the lingering effects of the Cruciatus Curse on her body, but her reflexes steadily sharpened, and the aftershocks of pain dwindled in frequency until they disappeared almost entirely. Despite her improvements in regards to her injuries, the approach of April's full moon had her feeling out of sorts in other ways. She still had yet to experience any sort of glaringly obvious "wolflike" tendencies, but she found herself sleeping poorly and snapping easily at anyone who irritated her. Unfortunately, everything seemed to irritate her.

She'd taken advantage of her returning physical health to go right back to plotting for Horcrux destruction with Harry and Ron. Harry was convinced that a Horcrux was hidden in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts, and had somehow managed to convince Griphook to help them break into the bank to retrieve it. Hermione was _not_ fond of Griphook. She felt somewhat guilty about that, considering the lengths she had gone to to establish herself as a crusader of magical creature rights- but there was just something _off_ about him, and she loathed spending so many hours with him in a dark bedroom, the back of her neck prickling for fear of betrayal. He was, of course, still staying at Bill and Fleur's. Hermione relished the ends of their long meetings, when she could come back to her small bedroom at Lupin Cottage and read alongside Remus. It was one of the only remaining comforting parts of her days. Harry was constantly on edge thanks to the ever-present pain in his scar, not to mention his stress over their Gringotts plan, and his stress only sent Hermione even further over the edge. Ron was trying his hardest to play the mediator, but he still acted uneasy around Hermione- and as she suspected that was due to her Lycanthropy, his tentative words of encouragement only further soured her mood.

One day, as she was dueling Harry outside of Shell Cottage in an attempt to acclimate herself to Bellatrix's wand, Bill approached them with a curiously tight expression on his face.

"Is everything alright?" She immediately asked.

"Yes, yes, it's fine," he said, waving a hand in the air between them. "I just… I've noticed you two, and Ron, have been spending a lot of time with Griphook."

Harry squinted at him. "I'm sorry, Bill, but we can't-"

"I know, it's alright," said the other man. "I just need to say this. If you have struck any kind of bargain with Griphook, and most particularly if that bargain involves treasure, you must be exceptionally careful. Goblin notions of ownership, payment, and repayment are not the same as human ones."

Hermione and Harry both squirmed slightly uncomfortably at the words. If Bill noticed, he didn't point it out. "All I am saying," he continued, "is to be very careful what you promise goblins. It would be less dangerous to break into Gringotts than to renege on a promise to a goblin." Harry paled at the mention of the bank.

"Thank you for the concern, Bill," Hermione said truthfully. "You needn't worry about us."

Bill gave her a wan smile. "You lot have a knack for getting into trouble, and I'm trying my best to prevent it, this time. I think it's best if you all come to stay here, instead of travelling back and forth between here and Lupin's."

At that, Hermione visibly tensed. "I don't think that's- I mean to say, I-"

"You can still go back there for the moon, Hermione," Bill said gently. "And Remus will make sure your Wolfsbane makes it to us here. I just really don't think it's a good idea for you all to turn your backs on Griphook, particularly when whatever you're planning involves him as heavily as it appears."

Harry slung one arm over her shoulder and rubbed it soothingly. "You'll be alright, Hermione," he said. "Ron and I will be here for you, and Remus and Sirius will take good care of you during the moon."

She frowned uncertainly, but returned the embrace all the same. "If you really think this is what's best, Bill," she conceded, "Then I suppose we should move our things."


	3. Chapter 3

**NOTE:** First full moon, y'all. I am pretty insecure about this chapter because writing the transformation was REALLY hard for me. Hopefully it came across okay! Thank you SO much to ShayaLonnie, HenriaSownbinder, Lalina92, and multiple guests for your lovely reviews so far, they really mean a lot! :)

 **CHAPTER 3**

 _ **April 12, 1998**_

The twelfth of April brought the first full moon since Hermione's attack at Malfoy Manor. She'd spent the past several days at Shell Cottage, refining plans with Harry, Ron and Griphook, and practicing magic with Bellatrix's wand. Concentrating on the tasks at hand had grown more and more difficult as the moon drew closer and closer- partially because of the moon's effects on her body and mind, but mostly because of her wildly tumultuous nerves. She hadn't seen Remus at all, and his absence made her uneasy. He was the only one who _truly_ understood what she was going through, and his presence had made her time at Lupin Cottage much more bearable than being alone as she was now. Despite his absence, a single dose of lightly smoking Wolfsbane had arrived at her bedside at promptly five o'clock each evening on the six days leading up to the moon. It smelled like burnt rubber and tasted even worse, but Hermione held her nose and drank it without complaint- she was deathly afraid of the alternative. _I really should learn how to brew this,_ she'd thought on the first day. By the fourth, she was completely unable to concentrate. By the morning of the twelfth, she was pacing through the kitchen of Shell Cottage while the boys ate breakfast. She couldn't have eaten if she wanted to- everything tasted like the Wolfsbane, and she felt sick to her stomach with nerves, anyway.

"Is it always this bad, mate? Lupin never acts like this," she heard Ron whisper to Harry, and she whirled on both of them.

"Maybe because _Remus_ has had the past _thirty four years_ to get used to the idea of being a bloody werewolf and to learn how to manage _all the effects this thrice damned MOON IS HAVING ON ME AND-"_ Her voice rose in volume until she was shouting at the both of them, hands waving wildly. She stepped backwards, intending to storm off to her room in a huff, but she stumbled when she backed directly into a broad chest and let out a surprised squeal.

"Sirius!" Harry was looking at him over her shoulder; his expression was brighter than it had been for days. "Just in time!"

"Feeling a little restless, Mini-Moony?" Sirius wrapped his arms around her from behind and a tiny growl slipped out from between her teeth. "Whoa! Remus told me you said you weren't feeling wolfy at all!"

"I am _not_ feeling _wolfy,"_ she said, still growling. Sirius grinned at her.

"Right, not wolfy," he said. "I've come to retrieve you. We thought it'd be best for you to go ahead and come over early. Get a chance to settle down, calm some nerves." He lowered his voice to a stage whisper and added, "Get away from these prats, you know," making Harry and Ron both shout "Oi!" at him.

Hermione finally relaxed long enough to let out a few nervous giggles at the boys' expense, and Sirius whisked her away before she had time to start shouting again.

"You're going to be fine, I promise," he said in a sincere voice, just before he gripped her upper arm tightly and Apparated the two of them back to Lupin Cottage.

"I could have done that myself!" She said indignantly, gasping as she caught her breath after the unexpected side-along Apparition.

"I'm not sure about that, love. You've been practically shaking all morning. The last thing you need is to get splinched just now."

Hermione swept one hand over her hair and shot him a worried frown. "I know," she said, "I'm just… I'm nervous, Sirius. Scared. I'm glad you and Remus will be with me."

He briefly squeezed her shoulder and steered her towards the kitchen. "I think a cup of tea will do you good, Mini-Moony. Maybe even a bit of firewhisky in there, huh?"

"Mini-Moony?" Remus's tired voice rose up from behind a copy of _The Daily Prophet,_ a twinge of amusement in his tone.

"Apparently that's my new nickname," Hermione offered with a roll of her eyes. Remus's nostrils flared when she crossed the kitchen to sit down beside him. "And I'll pass on the firewhisky, Sirius."

He looked at her skeptically and Remus slapped down his paper. "Padfoot, she said no! Besides, it's _ten in the bloody morning!"_

"Right," he said slowly, "ten in the morning on the day of her _first full moon."_

"And getting her drunk isn't going to make things any easier!"

"If you change your mind, Hermione, just let me know," Sirius said, winking conspiratorially as he slipped a mug of tea onto the table in front of her. She smiled at him and accepted the mug, but frowned into it instead of drinking any.

"Have you eaten, Hermione?" Remus asked gently. She wrinkled her nose at him.

"I don't think I can right now," she said. "Everything tastes like Wolfsbane."

"Yes, that potion has _quite_ the unfortunate aftertaste," he said dryly, but he pushed a plate of toast towards her anyway. "All the same, we've got one more dose to take this evening, and I promise you it's worse on an empty stomach. Plus you don't want to risk throwing it up… that would be bad."

Hermione groaned, but she picked up a slice of toast anyway and started nibbling at the corner.

"Careful telling her what to do, Moony," Sirius readopted the stage whisper with a gleeful expression on his face. "She _growled_ at me earlier!"

* * *

Hermione and Remus both downed their final doses of Wolfsbane at promptly five o'clock. Remus suggested that she take a nap until it was time to head up to the attic, but she was far too wound up to even think about sleep, so she resorted to pacing anxiously around the living room instead.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest?" Remus asked, looking concerned.

Sirius eyed his friend from the opposite side of the room. He was sprawled out in an armchair, long legs dangling haphazardly over the sides. "Maybe you should be doing the pacing, Moony. Wear yourself out so much you'll sleep right through the moon and all your fears'll be unfounded."

"It isn't funny, Padfoot. You know what to do if something goes wrong, right? If I even show the slightest _hint_ of violence-"

"Yeah, yeah, manhandle you into the cage and lock it up," he said, waving his hand absently.

Hermione paled as a new thought occurred to her. She even stopped her pacing momentarily. "What if _I'm_ the one to get violent? I've never- I mean, I'm the baby in this situation, this is-"

Both men stared at her. "I don't think that'll happen, Hermione," said Remus. "It's like you said, you're the baby here. You'll likely be too overwhelmed by the transformation and then by all your new senses to worry about… challenging me."

"But if it does you'll lock me up, right? I don't want to- what if I _hurt_ someone?"

She resumed pacing, only to pause again and glare at Sirius when he burst out laughing.

"Hermione, the only people here will be me and Remus. I've been handling his transformations for years. You won't be at all interested in biting Padfoot, I promise. And even if you bit Moony, what are you worried you'll do? Turn him into a werewolf?" He sat up in his chair to smile brightly at her. "I've got you, love. _We've_ got you. Don't be scared."

"Do you promise you'll lock me up if I try to bite you?" She pressed, stubbornly.

Sirius sighed. "Yes, if you try to bite me I will put you in the cage, but _Merlin_ you two, you took the Wolfsbane for a reason! You'll keep your damn minds!"

"Last month-"

"I know. That was different."

Remus sighed. "I hope so. Let's just… let's go get settled." He turned his back on them abruptly and proceeded up the stairs into the attic. Hermione and Sirius exchanged wordless glances of concern before they followed him silently up the stairs.

The attic was spacious- it spanned across the entire cottage, of course, and was bare of furniture but for a single, well-worn couch and a soft-looking rug. There was no evidence left of the loud crashes or splintering wood Hermione had heard in the haze after her attack- any damage that Remus had caused to the room had since been repaired. The walls were dark unfinished wood, and a tall window sat high in one, giving them a clear view of the rapidly darkening sky outside. The only other thing breaking up the room's monotony was the cage. Nearly a third of the attic was sectioned off by closely crossed metal bars. The thick barrier extended from floor to ceiling and continued even against the walls and floor. It looked like a giant, impenetrable kennel, and it made Hermione feel rather nauseous. She couldn't stand to look at it and picture Remus locked inside like an animal, so she averted her eyes with a frown, searching for a distraction. Her gaze fell on the couch; there were two large, loose robes lying across the back, and Hermione watched as Remus picked one up and held it out for her.

"This is for, uh… well, the transformation will ruin your clothes," he said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "So I thought you might want to put this on… instead."

Hermione could feel her face burning bright red, but she accepted the robe and rushed downstairs to change. When she returned, Remus was already wearing the other robe and standing by the window with his hands folded behind his back, watching the daylight fade away.

"This entire room is warded," he said without turning around. "You don't have to worry about anything, Hermione."

She swallowed. It was difficult, considering her mouth was bone dry. "Remus," she said in a shaky voice. "I… how bad is it?" She felt childish for worrying about the pain, but the memory of her attack was still fresh in her mind. At her question, he turned to face her and smiled softly.

"I won't lie to you," he said, "transforming is not a pleasant process. But the Wolfsbane will make the rest of it bearable."

"And I'm here," Sirius said with an encouraging smile. "Padfoot's an expert at dealing with cranky old wolves."

Hermione gave them both a shaky smile. Before anything else was said, she felt _something_ and knew it was starting. A deep ache was building from inside, and her body temperature started to rise uncomfortably. Her heart started racing and she looked wildly around the room, searching for comfort. Remus would be distracted with his own transformation, she knew, so she looked desperately to Sirius.

"Sirius!" She cried out as the dull ache that had begun building in her joints turned into sharp pain shooting through her body like electricity, forcing her to her knees. Sirius flew to her side when she called for him, murmuring words of encouragement and rubbing her back in small, soothing circles. Remus was still standing, his teeth gritted and his eyes screwed shut. When he opened them, they had shifted from soft green to blazing, molten amber. Hermione wondered if her own eyes looked the same. She felt vaguely alarmed that Sirius was still in his human form and meant to say something, but her detached thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of her own shrill scream as she felt her bones shifting. Her arms and legs were each snapping, separating and reforming into long limbs ending in large, clawed paws. The pain was intense, nearly unbearable, but it started to fade almost as quickly as it had come; she heard her own agonized cry morph into a low howl as the transformation completed and she stood, for the first time, as a werewolf. She'd hardly heard Remus make a sound. Her body was still shaking from the shock of the changes; she looked slowly around the room, heart still pounding in her chest. Everything looked different from this lower vantage point, and a barrage of new, sharpened senses also overwhelmed her. She could smell and hear _everything_ in sharp detail- a low whine came from her left side, and she turned to see Padfoot staring at her, tail wagging wildly. Cautiously, she stepped towards him and sniffed tentatively. He smelled like _Sirius_ when she'd ever gotten close enough to smell his cologne, but with an extra layer of wet dog masking his typically nice scent. The thought made her laugh, but it came out as a strange huffing sound. Sirius leapt closer to her and barked happily. Hermione was so relieved she felt like shouting with joy. The transformation had been excruciating, of course, but _this-_ thanks to the Wolfsbane- she could handle. She felt a moment of terrible sympathy for Remus, for having to suffer through all those years of transformations before Wolfsbane was invented.

Just as Remus entered her thoughts, Hermione shifted around to look at him. He was staring at her levelly, ignoring Padfoot completely. She'd seen him transform once before, of course- back in her third year- but as that had been a _run for your life_ sort of occasion, she hadn't had the chance to really study him. Now he stood, perfectly still before her, and she tilted her head as she observed him curiously. He stood much taller than she did, even in wolf form, and it would have been imposing had his eyes not been so familiar. Even as they shone gold instead of green, it was still _Remus_ , and the realization made her so happy that she bounded over to him eagerly. The other wolf continued to eye her warily as she moved towards him, sniffing all around, adjusting to her new canine sense of smell. When she moved too far behind him and nearly disappeared from his line of sight, Hermione was startled to hear a low, threatening growl erupt from the back of his throat. She immediately paused and backed up again, stopping squarely in front of him. He lowered his ears back and leapt towards her, snarling, baring his long teeth at her throat. Padfoot growled and started forward, but Hermione whined and slowly lowered herself to the floor. She continued gazing at Remus as she lay back, exposing her stomach and throat to the other wolf. _Pack,_ she thought to herself. The growl continued, but she saw his eyes flicker briefly before he tilted his head in approval.

Sirius watched their interaction curiously. He was poised to leap in at any moment if he felt it necessary, but he had the odd impression that whatever had just occurred was some sort of test on Remus's part. He took a step back from Hermione, and Sirius watched as she stood slowly and continued to sniff around Remus. This time, he returned the gesture tentatively. After several long minutes, Hermione turned back towards Padfoot and whined happily. They both watched as Remus circled several times before lying down on the rug in front of the couch and settling down to go to sleep. After watching him for a few minutes, Hermione padded softly over and curled up beside him, their backs curved together. The gesture felt markedly less awkward than it would have been had they been human- it felt completely natural, and for the first time since contracting lycanthropy, she felt a sense of peace. It wasn't long before Padfoot followed, settling himself on the couch above both of them, an air of satisfaction about him. _Lock me in the cage, my arse,_ he thought smugly, just before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

When Hermione woke, it was to the agony of her body transforming for the second time. She shot up with a gasp, moaning in pain as her bones righted themselves and her teeth and claws shrunk away; she had barely managed to stumble to cover behind the couch before she found herself lying on the floor, human again and very naked. She could hear shifting on the other side of the couch and knew that Remus had transformed as well, and that Sirius must be awake.

"Sirius," she rasped, "my robe?" Her voice felt oddly weak and disused, but she'd barely had time to dwell on it before he groaned and tossed the robe over the back of the couch at her. It was still dark outside.

"Fucking early," he complained. His voice was muffled and she snorted, picturing him whining into the couch cushions. She put the robe on and wrapped it tightly around herself, wanting nothing more than to move to her little bedroom and pass out again in the familiar bed.

"Is it safe to come out?" She asked uncertainly. The last thing she needed was to emerge from her haven unannounced and catch Remus in the nude. _Not that that would be an unappreciated sight,_ she caught herself thinking, and promptly turned crimson.

"Safe," came Remus's weary voice. She stood up at the reassurance and saw him standing as well. The couch separated them, and Sirius was sprawled across it, already back to snoring lightly. "Right, we're leaving him up here. How're you feeling?"

"Exhausted," Hermione said truthfully. "Also starving. I mean… I shouldn't be so tired, should I? The whole ordeal was rather anticlimactic, all things considered."

"You slept fitfully on an attic floor all night, and your body went through two extremely taxing transformations. You deserve a nap," Remus said with a smile. He opened up the attic door and gestured for her to exit before him. "I always like to have a lie in after the moon, if I can manage it."

Hermione brushed past him and felt a sudden flare of warmth in her chest as she picked up the same woodsy scent she'd spent so much time studying the night before. There was a strange, unspoken change in the way that they moved around one another- there was a new, intangible connection, pleasantly warm and decidedly magical. She felt him briefly stiffen beside her as she passed, and found herself wondering if he noticed the difference the same way she did. He trailed down the stairs after her, stopping when they reached the foot of the staircase, and the two of them lapsed into uncertain silence.

"I think I'll sleep for awhile longer," she finally said, and he nodded quickly.

"We'll eat when Sirius is up, yeah?"

Hermione snorted. "I'm sure that'll give us a few uninterrupted hours, considering that man sleeps like the dead."

He smiled at that. "Get some rest, Hermione. I'm… well, I'm glad that we could be here for you."

"Thank you, Remus. Really." She returned his smile gratefully and slipped into the bedroom where she'd spent so many hours in the past month, grateful for a few hours of uninterrupted sleep- in human form, and in a comfortable bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**NOTE:** This one's long and action-packed. I don't much like writing scenes that already happened in canon, but it's necessary here for setting up the plot to come :) Let me know what you guys think, I love seeing your thoughts (plus y'alls enthusiastic reviews are super motivational!)

 **CHAPTER 4**

 _ **April 13, 1998**_

Breakfast with Remus and Sirius turned out to be a pleasant affair. Hermione had woken for the second time at nearly noon, the overpowering smell of breakfast food assaulting her senses, and immediately followed her nose. Upon arrival in the kitchen, she was surprised to see Sirius standing at the stove. He was directing a sizzling pan of bacon with his wand, while Remus sat at the table with a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. Her eyes widened at the sight, and he grinned at her.

"See something you like, love?"

Remus growled "Padfoot!" at the same time Hermione burst into laughter. He _did_ make quite the sight, standing at the stove in only a pair of sweatpants, but that wasn't why she was staring. (Not entirely, at least.)

"I didn't know you could cook, is all," she said, still giggling. Sirius looked affronted.

"Of course I can cook! It was a necessary skill as a child in the Black house, unless you were actually willing to eat anything made by Kreacher," he said with a shudder. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm sure you're just being dramatic," she said, but she accepted a plate full of bacon and eggs all the same. He offered her a cup of tea to go with it, and she eyed it suspiciously. "There's firewhisky in that, isn't there?"

"Merlin, what do you think I am? Some kind of alcoholic?"

He feigned offense, but he was grinning wickedly at her and she narrowed her eyes. "Right, so I'll have coffee instead."

"Suit yourself, Mini-Moony."

Remus laughed and set down the paper to dig into his own breakfast. "How are you feeling?" He looked pointedly at her as he buttered a piece of toast.

"Better than I have all month," she said honestly. "Incredibly sore and absolutely famished, but no more fear of the unknown, you know? Like I said, anticlimactic."

"I'll say." Sirius slid into a chair across from her, his own breakfast plate and probably-spiked tea in hand. "I was looking forward to some good old fashioned roughhousing, but all I got was five minutes of weird sniffing and then sleep. Ugh."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You know the Wolfsbane makes things much easier to handle. You haven't really had to manhandle me for years." He paused. "And last month."

"Told you it'd be different. Less blood."

Hermione swirled her coffee absently in its mug, distracted by the way she could pick out each individual scent from every part of her breakfast, from the room around her and the people in it, and separate them. The rich, heavy scent of her coffee mingled pleasantly with the light smell of what must be Remus's aftershave. She focused on _his_ smell, and on the way she could hear his steady exhales and the sound of his heart beating rhythmically in his chest. She was so intently concentrated that she managed to drown out the sound of Remus and Sirius speaking to her for several long moments.

"Hermione!" One of them finally said, quite loudly, and she snapped back to reality.

"What?"

"Guess that answers the question," Sirius said with a grin. Hermione frowned uncertainly- she didn't know if she liked being the source of their amusement.

"He only means- I was asking you if you'd noticed the change in your senses," Remus explained. "Your distraction gives me the impression that you have. I'm sure it can be a bit overwhelming."

"Was it for you?" She asked curiously.

Remus shook his head slowly. "I was so young… I can't even remember my life before I was a werewolf, honestly. It's all normal to me at this point." She nodded in understanding- he had only been four at the time of his attack, of course. "I'm sure this month will be stressful for you," he continued. "Now that you've transformed once, you'll notice other changes… the emotional side of things can get a bit out of control. Not to mention the headaches…"

"Remus," she began. She was changing the subject rather abruptly, but she forced herself to start the question before she could lose her nerve. "Did you notice the difference, when we woke up this morning? The… aura?" Based on his skittish reaction to her earlier in the morning, she expected him to flinch away from her question. He shocked her by flashing a genuinely happy smile in her direction.

"I did," he said, still smiling. "I think you were right, Hermione. I think… I'm fairly sure it's a pack bond."

"Is it… normal?"

He furrowed his brow and turned his attention to his breakfast for several long moments before answering her. "It certainly isn't typical," he said. "Normal? I can't say. It's never happened with any other wolf I've transformed alongside."

"What about… Sirius, and James, and- well, Sirius and James." Hermione cleared her throat and kicked herself mentally for nearly mentioning Peter. "Were- are- they part of the pack too?"

"I certainly consider Sirius part of it. But Animagi are different from werewolves- I mean, the magic itself. You're… well, this bond is… this is just us." Remus actually flushed, and Hermione found herself smiling back at him.

"I'm glad I get to have you, Remus. So far you're the only good thing that's come out of all of this."

"I resent that," came Sirius's voice, ruining their moment.

"Love you too, Padfoot."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **April 28, 1998**_

"We'll be doing it tomorrow, I think. Or the day after." The night found Hermione back at Lupin Cottage as she so often was, settled cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace. Remus was seated in an armchair off to her side, tilting a tumbler of firewhisky in his hands.

Despite the absolutely secret nature of the Gringotts mission, Hermione had found herself confiding in Remus. They had grown far closer in the nearly two months since Hermione's attack. She was sure it was at least partly due to their pack bond, as well as the fact that they now both shared the burden of lycanthropy. In the years after Remus had left his Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts, his relationship with Harry, Ron and Hermione had been somewhat strange- slowly evolving from a distant friendship with their former Professor to something else; he'd become a mentor and near father figure to Harry, and now Hermione's dear friend. She found herself nearly unable to keep anything from him.

He didn't know the most explicit details of their plan, of course, but he was aware that they'd be attempting to break in to the Lestrange vault. He was also aware that the item they were in search of was of utmost importance- but that hadn't stopped him from trying to talk her out of going.

"Let me go instead, Hermione." She was staring away from him, into the flames, but that didn't stop her feeling his gaze boring holes in the back of her head as he spoke to her. It was a tired argument.

"You know I can't, Remus. Even if I could, it isn't- I'm the one who has to do this." Hermione turned to look at him and found herself entranced by the way the fire's reflection looked dancing in his eyes, flecking the green with bright gold. "Harry is… he and Ron are part of _my_ pack." She tilted her head at him, willing him to understand; when his gaze darkened- his eyes rimmed with gold that was clearly not a trick of the firelight- she narrowed her own eyes back at him.

"Not like _us_ pack," she clarified. "Like _Sirius_ pack." He kept his gaze trained on her for several long moments before closing his eyes and raising the tumbler to his lips, swallowing the rest of his drink in one swift motion. When he opened them again, they were watering slightly, but decidedly green again.

"I understand," he said heavily. "But _our_ pack is different. You know it is, you just said it. We've… we've only had one moon together, but this is- now that I _know_ , Hermione, I can't-"

"I know," she said softly, and he immediately trailed off into silence. There was no need to finish the thought- they both knew. Now that there was a pack bond, a _real_ pack bond, the thought of either of them facing their lycanthropy on their own was unfathomable. The transition in their relationship had been nearly immediate- Hermione could barely recall ever having seen Remus as only her old Professor. She felt as if she should be put out that their new, close friendship had to be preceded by her being viciously attacked by Greyback, but the sentiment wasn't there. He was the only person in her life who completely, intimately understood her life now, and that knowledge created a bond in itself- pack magic aside.

"I wish I could tell you more, Remus," she said after a few minutes of silence.

He closed his eyes again, but she could see his lips pressing together in a reluctant smile. "If you gave me details, I'd probably be even less inclined to let you leave this house. Breaking into Gringotts is… well. _'Thief, you have been warned, beware…'_ " he quoted the warning rhyme at her.

At that, Hermione laughed softly. "That's probably true," she said. "We'll come back here after. I promise."

"I'm holding you to that." Remus stood and placed his hand on the top of her head for a moment, toying with the soft curls near her forehead before he turned and padded out of the room.

Hermione stayed on the floor in front of the fire, waiting until she heard the click of his bedroom door to whisper, "I'll try my best" into the flames.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **May 1, 1998**_

"He knows."

Hermione struggled to sit up, her head spinning from pain as dry grass pressed into the burn wounds marring her legs and arms. They had barely escaped Gringotts alive, and without the sword to destroy the cup Horcrux, the situation was looking dire. Harry had almost immediately collapsed into a vision, and now his voice was shaky and panicked.

"How- what did you see? How do you know?" She rolled up onto her knees and opened a bottle of dittany, dabbing some onto her hands and then offering it to Ron- busying herself with simple first aid tasks to keep her brain from spinning into overdrive at the devastating blow they'd just received. _Voldemort knows. No sword. Voldemort knows._

"I saw him find out about the cup, I-I was in his head, he's seriously angry, and scared too, he can't understand how we knew, and now he's going to check the others are safe, the ring first. He thinks the Hogwarts one is safest, because Snape's there, because it'll be so hard not to be seen getting in. I think he'll check that one last, but he could still be there within hours-"

"Did you see where at Hogwarts it is?" Ron was clutching the cup to his chest, his face pale and streaked with blood.

"No, he didn't think about exactly where it is, but we've got to go-"

"Wait, _wait!"_ Hermione lurched to her feet, hands held out in front of her. "We can't just _go,_ we don't have a plan, and I promised Remus I'd-"

"We don't have time to wait, Hermione! We've got to go now. What if he moves the Hogwarts one, decides it isn't safe enough? Send a Patronus, tell Remus to round up the others and go to Hogwarts…" Harry pressed one hand to his forehead, his face twisted in a grimace. "Get under the cloak."

Hermione spun in a slow circle, resisting the urge to scream and sob in frustration. Instead, she drew out Bellatrix's wand and conjured her otter Patronus, whispering a message for Remus and Sirius. _'He found out. We got it, but it isn't over. Gather the Order and head to Hogwarts. There's going to be a battle.'_ Her voice wavered on the last words, but the otter flipped happily and zoomed away without a worry in the world. She repeated the spell for Shell Cottage and a third went to Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts. The trio watched in silence as the otters streaked out and disappeared over the horizon, then turned to face each other in resignation.

"Just like old times," Harry quipped as he threw the cloak over all three of them, trying in vain to pull it down to cover their feet. Hermione couldn't bring herself to smile. She slid her wand into her sleeve and clutched Harry and Ron each by one arm, and then together they turned on the spot into the crushing darkness.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Remus and Sirius were seated together at the kitchen table at Lupin Cottage when the Patronus arrived. They each had a glass in hand, wiling away the hours until they'd hear from Harry, Ron and Hermione, hoping and praying for good news. When the silver spectral otter burst through the darkening window and settled over the table in front of them, Remus leapt to his feet. Then Hermione's shaky voice filled the room.

 _'_ _He found out. We got it, but it isn't over. Gather the Order and head to Hogwarts. There's going to be a battle.'_

The otter did one more happy somersault before disappearing in a flash of silver, leaving Remus and Sirius alone in the kitchen. The very atmosphere seemed to close in around them, and Remus found himself struggling to speak.

"He found… they got it? What did they get? A fucking battle? What the bloody-" Sirius was clutching his wand in one hand and his firewhisky in the other, looking thoroughly disheveled but equally bloodthirsty.

"They got whatever they broke into Gringotts for, I assume. We have to get the others, now-"

"They fucking broke into Gringotts? You knew about this and you let them go?"

"There's no time for this now, Padfoot! Start sending Patronuses- as soon as we finish, we're going to Hogwarts."

"We probably can't even get directly into Hogwarts, how are we supposed to-"

"YOU HEARD HERMIONE!" Remus drew himself up to his full height, his eyes flashing amber and his shout escaping with a dangerous growl. "She said to get to Hogwarts. I am not going to stand around and debate when she is heading off to battle _on her own-"_

"I'm not arguing with you, Moony! We'll go to Bill and Fleur's, Bill can help- and she isn't on her own, she's got Ron and Harry." Sirius had barely gotten his words out when the fireplace roared and Bill Weasley stumbled onto the hearth, his wife trailing behind him.

"We got a message from Hermione," Bill said quickly. "And we got one from Neville, too- they've got the D.A together, and there's a passage into the castle where they're hiding. We've got to get to the Hog's Head."

"Done." Remus snatched his traveling cloak from the back of his chair and fastened it around his neck. He took a quick glance around the room, and then before anyone could voice further objections, he turned on his heel and Apparated directly into the Hog's Head.

The darkness around him was crushing as usual, but after a few uncomfortable moments he emerged in the middle of the grimy old pub. Within seconds, Sirius, Bill and Fleur appeared beside him in quick succession. The dingy curtains were all drawn closed, and a large portrait was swinging open on the back wall, revealing a dark passageway.

"You, too?" The gruff voice of Aberforth Dumbledore startled them. "No time for small talk. If you're going in, get on with it."

Remus tightened his lips, but nodded at the man and proceeded to the passageway. He had barely entered it when another _crack_ of Apparition sounded behind them, and Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared.

"Remus, Bill, Fleur." The man greeted them each in a peculiarly calm tone, then swept forward to enter the tunnel beside Remus, wand held aloft. They all advanced through the passage in a strange sort of procession, walking for what seemed like an eternity.

"Do any of you know what's going on here?" Kingsley's deep voice finally broke the silence as they walked.

"Not much," said Sirius. "We got a Patronus from Hermione. She thinks there's going to be a battle."

Kingsley nodded, mostly to himself. "So they called for the Order, then. Good kids."

"It's going to be a tough time getting the rest of them out," came Bill's voice. "Neville told us the D.A is all gathering… they're going to want to stay and fight."

"As long as they're of age, it shouldn't be…" He trailed off as the portrait swung open on the opposite side of the passageway to reveal an enormous room, the walls strung with hammocks and brightly colored wall hangings; it was absolutely packed from wall to wall with people.

The entire room was bustling with activity and the sounds of people shouting drowned out all else. Remus felt a surge in his chest and snapped his eyes to the front of the room just in time to see Hermione and Ron enter, stopping at the top of the stairs where Harry was already standing.

"Hermione!" He shouted her name and immediately shoved his way through the crowd, making his way up the stairs with Sirius right behind him. When he reached the top, he pulled her against his side and pressed his face against her hair, inhaling deeply, feeling relief wash through him at the sight of her in one piece.

Sirius had both hands on Harry's shoulders, looking him up and down, a fierce expression twisted across his handsome features. "Harry, what's happening?" he asked.

"Voldemort's on his way, they're barricading the school- Snape's run for it- they're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized," Harry said. "We're fighting."

At that, a deafening cheer went through the crowd of people who had paused to listen when Harry started speaking. There was a surge towards the doors as everyone rushed to the exit, anxious to make it to the Great Hall, and Remus pulled Hermione further out of the way, furrowing his brow at the armful of massive fangs she appeared to have in hand.

"Hermione, what are-" he began, but she silenced him apologetically.

"We've got to go, Remus, we've got to find… something, it's absolutely essential, we-"

"Is this something to do with what you took from Gringotts?"

"Yes," Ron answered, his voice firm, even as he tugged one of the fangs from Hermione's grip. "We're going to go find what we're looking for, and then we'll join you all in defending the castle, right?"

Remus was not pleased at the notion of parting from Hermione, but Sirius was tugging at his arm, and the roar of chaos around him was overwhelming him and all his senses. He pulled her close for one more brief moment, whispering "Be safe" against her hair, then swept out of the room after Sirius, heading for the entrance hall.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

The next several hours passed in a blur for Hermione. She felt strangely as if she were only half conscious as she sped from one end of the castle to the next, beside Harry and Ron, and then just Ron, and then alone. Down to the Chamber of Secrets and back up to the Room of Requirement, then through the corridors and to the entrance hall, fighting all the way. The castle was shuddering, dust and tiny bits of stone crumbling down upon them as the force of the spellfire raging outside shook the very foundation. There was chaos everywhere they went, jets of light flying in every direction as they walked. At one point, Harry detached himself from the group and disappeared- Hermione was concerned for him, but she was too focused on the duels raging around her to worry too intently about his situation. She'd just whirled around a corner, holding a shield charm in front of her as she moved to ward off unseen spells on the other side, when she saw him. Remus was standing halfway up a staircase, balancing precariously atop the bits rubble littering the steps, dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange.

The woman was laughing as she fought, shooting off curses haphazardly, blasting the staircase even further with every time that she missed.

"My filthy blood traitor cousin took my last werewolf pet away from me, little Lupin! Maybe I'll take you for a new one, eh?" She cackled madly and shot a _Crucio_ towards him, completely undeterred when it bounced off his shield.

Hermione gasped when she saw him, and in retrospect, she thought, that was her downfall. Remus heard her sharp intake of breath even over the din of the battle raging around him, and his eyes snapped to meet hers. Bellatrix turned to see what had his attention and screeched with delight when she caught sight of Hermione.

"The little Mudblood's come back to play!" She shot a curse towards Hermione, and Remus leapt towards her, snarling.

"Aha!" Bellatrix shouted gleefully. "Dirty Muggle blood wasn't enough, was it? Now I've got _two_ filthy werewolf pets to take home with me!" Hermione's heart was pounding with rage, and she shot spell after spell at Bellatrix, but the woman deflected them easily, laughing all the while.

 _"_ _I_ know," she finally said, "I'll just take care of your dear wolfy Professor, and _then-"_ She flicked her wand as she spoke, and Hermione was screaming before the spell had even left her lips.

 _"_ _REMUS!"_ His name burst from her lips, so loud she thought her throat would tear in two, and she flung her wand up to cast a shield. Remus raised his own wand, but the curse hit him square in the chest before he could react. Time seemed to stop as the sickening green glow filled Hermione's field of vision, and she watched as Remus's eyes widened, locking on hers. He stayed upright for a long, frozen moment, and then his wand slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor, barely a second before his body collapsed and lay slumped against the broken staircase.


	5. Chapter 5

**NOTE:** Yes, this is still a Remione. :) Keep on giving me feedback lovelies, I thrive on it!

 **CHAPTER 5**

 _ **May 1, 1998**_

The very moment that Remus died, something snapped in Hermione. The gentle warmth she'd come to recognize as the pack bond vanished abruptly, leaving her feeling cold and utterly alone even in the chaos of battle. She stood for one long, agonizing moment, staring at the limp body crumpled against the marble, before she reacted. It was the simultaneous sounds of Bellatrix shrieking with delighted laughter and Sirius's agonized howl coming from somewhere behind her that shook her out of the reverie. She was vaguely aware of Sirius shouting behind her as he sprinted down the hallway, trying to calm her even as he shot spells at Bellatrix in rapid succession. He finally reached her side and Hermione felt him reach out for her arm, but she wrenched her hand from his grasp and leapt forward, a vicious sound bursting from her lips.

"YOU KILLED HIM," she shouted. Her voice cracked, and hot tears were blurring her vision, streaking down her face. "YOU KILLED HIM, I'LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING-"

"Such _language!_ Who knew the leader of your little pack inspired such-" Bellatrix was leering at Hermione, taunting her, but the insult never escaped her lips. At the word _pack_ Hermione felt her chest bursting with incomprehensible rage and she flung her wand- Bellatrix's own wand- in front of her, screaming so loudly the words were lost to a howl. It didn't matter. The sickly green glow exploded from the wand and struck Bellatrix with such force she was thrown back against the wall, her body slamming against the stone with the sickening sound of shattering bones. Bellatrix Lestrange was dead.

Her death was abrupt and anticlimactic; it brought Hermione no comfort. With the consuming need for revenge suddenly gone, there was nothing to do but sink to her knees beside Remus's body, her entire being aching with the loss. The absence of Bellatrix's screeching left the space around her oddly silent- the crashes of spellfire just outside seemed distant and muffled, as though she'd drifted underwater. She reached out slowly and touched his face, half convinced he'd open his eyes and demand to return to battle. His skin was still warm. Sirius knelt beside her and held out his arms as if to hold her, but she couldn't bring herself to move even an inch away from Remus. The sobs had barely started to make their way up from her chest when everything got worse. _Because it always gets worse._ Voldemort's high, cold voice pierced through the castle with clearly magically enhanced volume, and the words were death all over again.

 _"_ _Harry Potter is dead,"_ said the Dark Lord. _"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anybody who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered…."_

The words sent another shock of pain straight through Hermione. She heard Sirius's shout beside her, felt the walls vibrating with the force of the battle still raging outside, tried to force herself to her feet to storm through the wreckage of the castle and murder Voldemort herself- but she managed none of those things in the moment. She lurched upwards briefly, then staggered forward into what must have been Sirius's chest- he was speaking to her, but the words were unintelligible. In a few short moments, she slipped from consciousness and the world around her faded into nothing.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

When Hermione came to, she felt as if she'd been sleeping for hours and hours. That clearly wasn't the case, as Sirius was still standing over her; he was in fact shaking her shoulders rather roughly and looking uncharacteristically panicked.

 _"_ _Harry's alive,"_ he hissed at her.

There should have been a wash of relief, but Hermione felt numb. When she opened her mouth to respond it felt like the werewolf attack all over again. "You don't think he's… how do you know?"

"I _know_. We have to go. Now."

Hermione was instantly conflicted- if there was a chance, even the _slightest_ of chances that Harry was still alive, she needed to go to him. He was _pack._ _Not like us pack,_ she'd told Remus. But pack all the same. But she couldn't leave Remus there, not broken on the staircase only feet away from Bellatrix's bloody form… Her eyes drifted back to his, green and blank and staring at nothing, and Sirius watched her and he knew. He squeezed his own eyes shut for just a moment, and when he opened them he knelt over the lifeless body of his best friend and picked him up as gently as he could. He moved him only to the side of the staircase, positioning him against the wall behind a broken column; it looked as if he were only sleeping there amongst the blood and rubble.

"We're coming back," Sirius told her, his voice cracking. Tears were slipping freely down his dirt-stained cheeks, but he didn't acknowledge them. He lifted his wand and cast a disillusionment charm over the body, then threw up a Notice-Me-Not for good measure. "He'll- he'll be…"

Hermione swallowed thickly. "Harry."

Sirius held out his hand, and the moment she grasped it they both took off at a run. They sprinted together down ravaged hallways, dodging bits of still-smoking rubble and jumping over the deep cracks that rent the floors. Finally they came to the Great Hall, doors thrown wide open, filled with students and teachers and Order members alike. The mass of bodies in the room obscured the scene in the center of it at first, and so Hermione and Sirius heard the battle before they reached it. Heard Harry, speaking in a high, clear, taunting voice.

"There are no more Horcruxes," he was saying, "It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives…" Hermione knew he was still talking, but her ears were filled with that incessant roaring again. She edged closer and closer, weaving through the throngs of people as if in slow motion, Sirius's hand still gripped in hers, until she came upon the sight of her best friend; he was covered in dirt and sweat and _blood_ but very much _alive_. The sound of her own blood rushing through her body was overpowering, and her overly sensitive nose was making her sick with the scent of iron and smoke coating the castle's stone floors. She only stood, transfixed, as Harry and Voldemort circled one another dangerously slowly, each holding their wand aloft, ready to cast at a moments notice.

The other man's sickly pale, snakelike face contorted with rage when Harry dared to call him _Tom Riddle,_ and Hermione felt Sirius gripping her hand painfully tightly as they shouted at each other. They were discussing the _Elder Wand_ and _Severus Snape_ and _Draco Malfoy_ and _love,_ and none of it made sense to her or to anyone, especially not now, but one else in the Great Hall dared to say a word. It felt as though an eternity had passed before Harry pointed Draco Malfoy's wand directly at Voldemort and they shouted in unison:

 _"_ _Expelliarmus!"_

 _"_ _Avada Kedavra!"_

Then there was a deafening bang like a cannon blast, and a blinding eruption of golden flames, and it was over. Voldemort's thin body lay motionless on the castle floor while Harry Potter stood above him, dirty and bloody and alive and _victorious,_ clutching the Elder Wand.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Hours later found Hermione back in the hallway where she'd lost him. She'd hugged Harry and Ron as soon as the battle was over, of course- but now they were gathered in the Great Hall with the rest of them, eating and celebrating and putting off the massive reconstruction that now had to occur. She couldn't bear to be around them, so she retreated to the side of the broken staircase and sat with Remus, holding onto his now-cold hand and shaking with grief.

A few students and teachers were attending to the wounded and working to move the bodies of those who had fallen out of the main hallways. Madam Pomfrey had approached with a small band of assistants and attempted to move Remus to the chamber alongside the Hospital Wing along with the others, but they hadn't made it within five feet of him before Hermione looked up at them with a feral snarl, her fingers fisted in his robes with a fierce possessiveness.

"I'm _not_ leaving him," she hissed, eyes flashing gold, and they all backed away quickly, shooting confused, slightly frightened looks at her as they retreated. She didn't know how long she sat, huddled beside him with her head against his slumped shoulder, before Harry appeared. She heard him first- the strange crunch of feet atop bits of stone and broken glass; when she lifted her head to peer down the hallway through teary eyes, he removed his invisibility cloak.

"Hey." She didn't answer at first, but the tears started to fall more heavily when Harry moved to sit beside her. "He was a good man," he tried again after a moment. At that, she lifted her swollen eyes to meet his gaze- his own green eyes were clouded with grief, even as she knew he was relieved to be _finished,_ to live his life as more than the Chosen One _._ Hermione averted her eyes again, looking back down at Remus's face. He looked peaceful in death; she felt her heart breaking as she looked at him and she hated Bellatrix with every fiber of her being for taking him away from her. When he fell, the warmth of the bond had abruptly vanished with a cold finality that left her feeling painfully empty and alone. She could already feel the upcoming moon, deep in her bones, and the thought of enduring her second transformation without Remus was overwhelming.

"I killed her," she finally told Harry. Her voice was quiet and devoid of emotion. "Bellatrix. She did this. So I killed her."

Harry didn't try to comfort her. He didn't tell her that Bellatrix deserved it, or that she only did what had to be done in war. He only exhaled once and then leaned forward, wrapping her in his arms. They sat that way for a long while, Hermione sobbing into Harry's filthy sweater as he stroked her hair. That was how Sirius found them. The older man approached without a word and held out a hand each to Hermione and Harry. The two of them stood and watched in silence as he conjured a dark sheet to lay gently across the body of his best friend. Hermione felt her eyes burning as she watched, but she didn't react; Sirius and Harry were allowed where the rest were not.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **May 3, 1998**_

The funeral was held two days later. It was a small, quiet affair, attended mostly by Order members and the odd Hogwarts student. Sirius delivered the eulogy, his voice uncharacteristically gravelly with barely restrained tears; Hermione sat in the first row, sandwiched between Ron and Harry, her eyes dull and body stiff. She'd declined to offer her own words at the service- she was, to be honest, completely lost for them. Of all those who attended, only Harry, Ron, Bill, Fleur and Sirius knew about the full scope of events from Malfoy Manor; her close relationship with Remus had begun following the werewolf attack, and none of the things she _wanted_ to say about him seemed right for the occasion. Not without explaining things that she really didn't care to explain.

The scars across her face and neck made it clear that she'd experienced _some_ violence or another during her time in hiding, but that was to be expected after spending months on the run; the battle and the days following had been wrought with activity and tragedy such that no one had cared to examine her too closely, or even to ask her about the scars. She hadn't been actively hiding her condition- not from the people who'd attended Remus's funeral, at any rate- but she found herself unwilling to even _think_ about her own lycanthropy, now, much less discuss it with people who'd have yet another reason to pity her. Instead, she sat in stiff silence as Sirius delivered his speech; then she stood between Harry and Ron, a hand gripped in each of theirs, and watched as the dark wood casket was lowered slowly into the ground. Later, when everyone had gone and dusk began to fall, she turned her back on the golden remnants of light that streaked across the headstone, and Apparated to Lupin Cottage. The front door was unlocked when she appeared outside it, lacy curtains pushed aside and it felt so _wrong_ , like he had never left. She entered the kitchen and there were still glasses on the table from where the men had sat just before her Patronus had arrived; her eyes burned again at the sight.

A few steps into the living room and she found Sirius seated with his back to the door; all of the lights were off and a half-empty glass was clutched in his right hand.

"He left the place to me," he said dully as she entered the room. He didn't even turn around. Hermione crossed the room to stand in front of him, looking down at him until he raised red-rimmed, steel-grey eyes to meet hers. She swallowed hard.

"I don't… Sirius, I can't-"

He pressed his lips together in a humorless gesture and held out his glass to her; she accepted it and swallowed the rest of the firewhisky inside in one gulp, grimacing as it burned its way down her throat.

"You can stay here," he told her. "I don't know if it will make things better or worse, but you can- it's an option. I'm not going back to Grimmauld Place."

"I think I'd appreciate that," she replied. Truthfully, she didn't know herself if it would make things better or worse- but she had nowhere else to go, and Sirius was the only person left in the world who truly understood. Harry came close, but Sirius had been there for her first and only transformation, and he'd been part of _Remus's_ pack. Now, he was just as much a part of hers.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **May 4, 1998**_

Hermione had fallen asleep on the rug in front of the unlit fireplace of Remus's- now Sirius's and her own- living room. She didn't wake up until the following evening; when she did, it was to the steamy, unpleasant scent of Wolfsbane directly next to her face. She sat up with a start, blearily rubbing the side of her face where the carpet had left a painful red impression, and tried not to retch. The source turned out to be Harry, crouching in front of her holding the smoking goblet. Sirius was _still_ passed out in the armchair, snoring lightly.

"It's five o'clock," said Harry. "I know you won't want to, but you've got to take this." Hermione stared at him.

"Where did you get that?" She asked blankly. "I guess I- well, I never thought about where Remus- after Snape…"

"Slughorn. He knows about you- we had to tell him so he'd know to make double the dose for last month. I picked it up this morning- the moon's next week, and I just-"

"Thank you, Harry." She took the goblet and closed her eyes, allowing herself a pained grimace before pinching off her nose and swallowing the potion in one long gulp. "That stuff is absolutely repulsive."

Harry smiled wanly. "'Pity sugar makes it useless,'" he said. Hermione let out a choked laugh when he quoted Remus, tears already rising unbidden and threatening to spill out down her carpet-burned cheek.

"I don't want this," she cried softly. "I hate- I _hate_ Voldemort, I _hate_ Bellatrix Lestrange, I hate _Greyback_ … I hate my _life,_ I- I can't… Not without…" She trailed off, her voice devolving into a series of wracking sobs. Harry took the now-empty goblet from her shaking hands and set it down on the floor beside them, then took her in his arms just as he had next to the staircase after the battle.

"They're gone," he told her soothingly. "Bellatrix, Voldemort… they're gone."

"Because of them," she said into his shoulder, " _Remus_ is gone. Because of them, I'm a werewolf. And now, because of them, I have to do this alone, when Remus was the only, tiny bright spot in the rest of the storm, and-" Her increasingly hysterical rant was cut short by a loud snore from Sirius, and she choke-laughed again.

"You aren't alone. You've got Sirius, and me, and Ron. Bill and Fleur. Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys. They may not all know, and we may not _all_ be Animagi who can sit with you during the actual moons, but- you know if they did- I just… we're your pack too, Hermione. I may not be a werewolf, but-" Hermione tightened her arms around him and cried harder into his shirt.

"Thank Merlin for that," she sniffled. "You don't _want_ to be. But- thank you, Harry. You're right. You're pack."

"Now that we've got that established… you should really eat something. Your stomach's been empty for what- twenty-four hours, now? I'd rather not see that Wolfsbane come back up, so…"

Hermione's stomach made an awful noise of protest as if to agree with Harry, and she let out another shaky laugh. "Alright," she said, then paused. "Can we just order crappy Muggle takeout, because-"

"Chinese Combo King?" Sirius's sleepy voice interrupted her from across the room, and at that she and Harry both burst into more genuine laughter.

"Of course you wake up at the mention of food."

"What the fuck is Chinese Combo King?"

Sirius looked horrified. "Only the _best_ Chinese takeout place in- Merlin- you've really never-?"

"Nope. Lead the way, Sirius."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 **NOTE:** Chinese Combo King is most definitely not a thing in England, lol. It was, however, the Chinese takeout restaurant of choice near where I went to college (in the US, obviously), so it gets to make an appearance here. CCK all day. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**NOTE:** Last chapter of setup before we get into the real story! Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 5 and to Shayalonnie for including me on her latest rec list!

 **CHAPTER 6**

 _ **May 9, 1998**_

Officially moving into Lupin Cottage had taken Hermione under ten minutes. She had very little in the way of possessions- everything she cared about was either still stuffed into the now filthy and unraveling beaded bag, or already in her little blue bedroom at the house. Harry had elected to move in as well; Sirius had enthusiastically signed over Grimmauld Place to his godson so as to get it off his hands, but the Order was still using it as a home base- _it's much easier to just stay out of their way_ , Harry had said, _I'm done discussing prophecies and Death Eaters for now_. Hermione suspected that his true motivation was to keep an eye on her and Sirius. They'd both fallen into bouts of depression following the death of Remus. Harry was sad, of course, but Sirius was shattered at the loss of the last of his Marauders and had spent most of every day since drowning himself in firewhisky- a habit he was happy to turn Hermione on to.

Despite the comparatively short length of her friendship with Remus, his loss hit Hermione hardest. She'd grown to rely on the comforting warmth of the magic surrounding Remus and their pack bond, and its sudden disappearance left her feeling empty and increasingly apathetic; she spent her days in uncharacteristic lethargy, alternating between sleeping and attempting to cope with things "the Sirius way." After the fifth day spent drinking herself sick, Harry attempted to stage an intervention for the both of them. That evening, he stormed into the kitchen where they both sat, bottle in Sirius's hand, and snatched the alcohol away from him, ignoring his shouts of protest.

"You don't get to argue, you're _drunk_ ," said Harry firmly. "I get that you're _sad_ , but this is-"

"No, you _don't_ get it," Hermione immediately snapped. She had spent so long feeling completely emotionless that the surge of rage was almost a welcome change. There was a brief flash of guilt for directing her anger at Harry- but at least _that_ was an emotion, too. "You don't. He was only a teacher to you, a- a friend of your dad's… to me he was- he was my…"

"Your pack? Yeah, I know. But you can't keep doing this. Do you know how much alcohol it takes to even affect a werewolf? You're poisoning yourself-"

"Last I checked you weren't in _charge_ of me, Harry Potter," Hermione bit out, eyes narrowed. She could feel the wolf inside her, snarling, straining to snap the rest of her resolve- it was, after all, two days before the moon. _Ah, that's why I actually feel something,_ she thought bitterly, even as a growl slipped out from between her bared teeth.

Further argument was momentarily cut off by Sirius's angry protest when Harry tipped the bottle of firewhisky upside down over the sink.

"What the _fuck, Harry,"_ the man said through clenched teeth, jolting out of his chair. "I am not drunk- you know as well as I do that it takes more than this to get _me_ drunk-" Harry ignored him and reached next for the glass still in Hermione's hand.

"I know you're _grieving,"_ he said gently, "and I know what it's like. After Dumbledore died, I was… well, it's only human, but-"

At that, Hermione did snap.

 _"_ _I_ _—_ _AM— NOT— HUMAN!"_ She screamed it so loudly she could feel her own ears ringing. Harry jumped at her sudden outburst, and then his previously firm expression softened into one of pity, and that only made everything worse. She was still gripping the glass in her hand so tightly her fingers had gone white.

"Hermione," the boy started, taking a step towards her.

"Don't. Touch. Me." Some furious impulse drew her to throw the glass down against the floor with every ounce of strength she had, and she took vicious pleasure in the way it shattered and splashed amber liquid all over the floor and Harry's shoes. Sirius didn't say a word- he was still standing beside the sink where he'd leapt towards Harry; now he was staring at the table, jaw clenched, a sad and somewhat resigned expression on his face. Hermione didn't wait for them to speak; she turned on her heel and actually _ran_ out of the kitchen, racing down the hallway before either of them had a chance to come after her. She slipped into a room and slammed the door behind her, then locked it. It wasn't until she'd spent several moments with her back against the door, chest heaving and eyes burning with angry tears, that she realized she'd gone straight to Remus's bedroom.

The room had remained untouched since they'd moved into the Cottage, and Hermione found herself suddenly assaulted by his scent; it lingered in every corner of the room and surrounded her, suffocated her. She was suddenly overwhelmed, and her chest throbbed painfully where the bond had been… where it _should_ have _still_ been, if not for Bellatrix Lestrange. She felt another surge of fury and wished that she could kill the vile woman again, and then again; the urge to _hurt_ her, to rip her throat out with her own teeth, to punish her for what she took away was suddenly overwhelming- but then, as quickly as it had come, the anger subsided and Hermione was awash with shame.

 _I really am inhuman- I'm a monster now, and the only person in the world who didn't think so is gone,_ she thought in a miserable panic. Harry would say that of _course_ you're human, of course you're not a monster- but Harry didn't know how violently her wolf and her former self struggled inside her, Harry didn't know that she'd fallen to her hands and knees only moments ago and fantasized about the taste of a woman's blood; he didn't know the _truth_. The scent of her own panic mingled with Remus's woodsy musk filled her nostrils; the tears were suddenly back and streaming hot down her cheeks. Hermione felt herself retch again and again, but she didn't vomit- Harry was right, it took far more alcohol to affect her than she'd had time to drink before he poured it all away. Finally, bitterly, she fell to her side and brought her knees to her chest in the center of Remus's hardwood floor, sobbing. _I don't want to live like this,_ she thought. _I should have died. It should have been me._

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Harry stood in the kitchen staring at the door through which Hermione had made her sudden exit, his brow slightly furrowed and his mouth slack with concern. For a few long moments the only sound was the light splash of firewhisky dripping from the edge of the table. Finally he cleared his throat awkwardly and Sirius looked up at him.

"I didn't mean to set her off," he said with a somewhat guilty expression. "I just- Hermione never used to drink, and- I didn't expect her to- and you…" he trailed off.

"She's different now," Sirius said after a long pause. "It's the wolf. She doesn't mean what she said, it's- I'm sure she's already feeling horrible about shouting at you. Moony used to… he used to deal with the same thing. The slightest thing will set her off and… and her senses are in overdrive because of the moon-"

Harry exhaled and pulled out a chair to sit at the table. "You don't suppose the- the, er, pack bond… has anything to do with how she's taking this, do you?"

Sirius frowned. "Haven't a clue. She's the first werewolf that _that_ happened with, at least for him. I haven't really talked to her about it. I don't know who else would know… They couldn't even find information themselves."

"I bet Dumbledore would've known," Harry said sorrowfully.

Sirius frowned. "Maybe."

"D'you think I should go after her?"

"I'd let her come to you. Wouldn't be surprised if she's sleeping," his godfather replied with a grim smile. "Those outbursts take a lot out of you."

There was another long silence before Harry spoke again, his voice full of regret. "I wish we could have gotten there sooner. To the manor, I mean. Then maybe she never would have- it wouldn't have been-"

Sirius reached out to put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You can't think that way, Harry," he said. "The what-ifs, the should-haves- you'll kill yourself thinking about it. We have to just… to do what we can with what we're given. Hermione is strong. She'll- she'll make it through this if I know her at all."

Harry lifted his eyes to meet Sirius's. "That's what I'm worried about," he said lowly. "This isn't _Hermione_. What if this- this _pack_ magic is doing something to her- I don't know, it's just not normal-"

"Don't let her hear you say that. She murdered Bellatrix over an insult to her pack."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure she went after Bellatrix because she _killed_ a member of her pack, but-"

"I know, I know," Sirius said hastily. "I was just- Remus meant- _means_ a lot to her. To insinuate that the pack bond is a harmful thing is probably not… the most tactful thing you could do."

Harry sighed. "It feels like you're the only one going through all this with me, Sirius. Everyone's coping with their own loss after the war, and I just- Ron's still so broken over Fred and- and Ginny too. I can't blame them, wanting to be with their family, but-" his voice cracked. "Hermione's my family too, you know?"

"I know," Sirius said sadly. " _Your_ pack."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **May 10, 1998**_

Hermione woke up several hours later, still in a fetal position on Remus's floor. The first thing that came to her was a shock of pain- her hip had pressed uncomfortably into the hardwood and she was left with what felt like a painful bruise. The second thing that came to her was an overwhelming sense of panic.

"What time is it?!" She gasped out loud, fumbling for her wand. _"Tempus."_ 4 am. _Fuck,_ she thought. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ In the midst of the chaos that had been commiserating with Sirius, Harry's intervention, and her resulting breakdown, she'd somehow forgotten to take her Wolfsbane. Since moving into the Cottage, Harry had stopped babying her- she'd been responsible for her own daily potions, and she'd _forgotten._ Wolfsbane was quite the finicky potion- it had to be taken at precisely the same time for all seven days leading up to the transformation, or it would have no effect. _"Fuck,"_ she whispered again, if only to herself. She stumbled to her feet and winced as her body stretched, limbs sore from the awkward position she'd slept in. Remus's bedroom was dark, lit only by silvery strips of moonlight streaming through the parted curtains and across the bed, still unmade from the day before he'd left. The moonlight made Hermione shiver and her eyes filled with tears yet again from the shame of her own absolute stupidity- _how could I forget?_ Now Sirius and Harry would both be in danger during the following night's transformation- she wouldn't keep her mind. She _would_ be a monster.

She paused for a brief moment and contemplated climbing into the bed, wrapping herself in the blankets and trying to lull herself back to sleep surrounded by Remus's scent- but in the end, her desire for human comfort won out. She slipped out into the hallway and made her way down to Harry's bedroom door, knocking on it softly. When she heard him mumble sleepily, she pushed it open.

"Harry?" She whispered.

He sat up in bed, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. "Yeah. Hermione? Are you okay?"

"You don't have to get up," she said shakily. "I just… would it be okay if I stayed in here?"

"What?"

Hermione immediately regretted asking. "It's okay," she said, already backing out of the room, "I'll just go back to the other room, I-"

"No, no, it's okay- you can stay. Are you alright?" Harry asked.

She padded slowly towards the bed, shifting hesitantly onto the edge of it and kneeling facing Harry. "I didn't take my potion yesterday." Her voice cracked on the end of the sentence. Harry immediately understood.

"Oh my god, Hermione, I- you're going to tear yourself apart-" He was so completely and utterly unconcerned for his own safety, focused only on the fact that she'd have a rough transformation, that Hermione was genuinely moved by the depth of his friendship.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she whispered.

"No," he said, "I should have remembered, I'm so sorry, I can't believe-"

"I meant… I meant that I'm sorry about earlier. I never should have blown up on you like that. I just… Nothing feels right anymore. I can't explain it- it feels as if the whole world's shifted and I don't have anyone for me anymore-"

"You have me," he corrected her. "And Sirius. Come here." He pulled the blanket back and she clambered under it, pressing into his side.

"This should be weird," she commented into his pajama-clad chest. "Why isn't this weird?"

"Nah," Harry said with a laugh. "Nothing is weird anymore." He paused. "Actually, if you went to Sirius like this, that might be a little weird." They both laughed at that.

"Thank you. I'm sorry again, too. For being so… _wolfy_. I wish I could control it better. I wish…" she trailed off.

Harry only tightened his arms around her. "I know."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **May 11, 1998**_

The evening of Hermione's second full moon found her back in the attic of Lupin Cottage. This time, she was on the other side of the cage. She sat on the floor in the center of the kennel, already wearing her robe, trying not to acknowledge the way Sirius was looking at her sadly from the other side of the bars.

"I'm sorry for locking you up, Hermione," he said with a frown. "If we had more space, I'd take you out to run, how we… used to. But it's just-"

"It isn't your fault, I should have remembered my potion."

"I'm going to stay here with you, alright? I'm going to try to make sure you don't hurt yourself too badly.

Hermione set her jaw and nodded- and then it was only moments before she felt the moon beginning to affect her. Her skin started to burn all over and she could feel Sirius's eyes on her, watching as she resisted the urge to writhe with the discomfort. He was on the wrong side of the cage, this time- there would be no one to hold her as she transformed, and no Remus to curl up with to sleep the moon away. Maybe losing her mind was better.

Her resolve quickly crumbled as the discomfort turned into outright pain; the burning on her skin sunk deep into her bones, spreading viciously until every inch of her felt like it was on fire. The screams started, then. She was vaguely aware that this was the first time that Harry would have to be in the same house while she transformed- there was a fleeting sense of shame before the pain increased yet again and she was unable to focus on anything else. Sirius was saying something to her, from the other side of the bars- they were probably words of comfort, but as the wolf took over her body, she was overwhelmed with bloodlust; she wasn't even entirely transformed when she threw herself against the bars in an effort to reach him. At that, he shifted into Padfoot and his scent abruptly changed; at the same moment, she felt the bones in her limbs snap and begin to reform. The sound of her own howling reached her ears and the last remnants of her humanity struggled to ignore the scent of Harry's blood on the floor below, overwhelming her senses- it was the last thing she recalled before the transformation was complete and everything went black.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **May 12, 1998**_

The crisp air of the following morning's wee hours was rent with Hermione's screams as she came back to herself, shifting back into her human form with what seemed like even more agony than the first transformation. She tentatively stretched her limbs out and waited for the pain to subside- it was several moments before she realized that it wasn't going anywhere.

"Alright, Moony?" It was Sirius speaking to her, his voice followed by the scrape of metal as he unlocked the cage and pulled the heavy door open.

" _Mini-_ Moony," she corrected automatically. Sirius smiled a little at that, but his eyes were sad, roaming concernedly over her body. There was a fleeting feeling of shame at being studied naked, but when she tried to sit up to locate her robe, pain shot through her and she fell back to the floor with a cry.

"Careful- I'm just going to come in and try to fix you up a bit, yeah? You were- transformations without the Wolfsbane are… quite violent," he said regretfully. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, listening as he stepped towards her and knelt down at her side. She whimpered when he cast the first healing spell- she could feel her skin stretching as it knit back together; the disappearance of larger lacerations made her more aware of the deep bruising covering her entire body.

"Let's not ever forget your potion again, right?"

Hermione set her jaw. "I'm not going to take it anymore."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her. "Yes, you are," he told her, his voice uncharacteristically firm. "Hermione- not only is it dangerous-"

"I'm not getting out of the cage, clearly-"

"You're only hurting yourself, it isn't fair for you to-"

"I would rather lose my mind, again and again," she bit out, "than fucking _live_ like this."

"Like _this,_ Hermione? You're only like _this_ because you _didn't take your potion!"_ His voice had risen to a shout and she was healed enough to leap to her feet, ears pricking painfully from the volume. She snatched her robe from the floor and wrapped it around herself defiantly.

"You're being irrational," he continued. "One day, the wolf is going to bloody _kill_ you and-"

"I HOPE IT DOES!" She stormed past him, ignoring his stunned expression, and flung open the door to the attic, intent on locking herself back in Remus's room for the remainder of the day. That plan was foiled when the door flew open to reveal Harry standing on the other side of it, clutching a letter in both hands.

"Good morning, Harry," she said, voice eerily calm. "I hope you slept well. If you'll excuse me." The boy didn't step aside, and her eyes narrowed in irritation. Instead, he held up the parchment in his hands with an unsure expression on his face.

"Hermione," he started. "Please don't be mad."

She felt a surge of anger in her chest and immediately berated herself- _you don't even know what he did._ So she asked.

"What. Did. You. Do." She demanded, voice low.

"I… last night, it was- it was _awful_ , okay? I've never- having to listen to you scream and howl all night and- I was freaked out, I didn't know what to do, so I- I wrote to McGonagall."

Irritation was temporarily replaced by confusion. "You wrote… McGonagall? About _what?"_

Harry's eyes darted nervously to Sirius. "The other day, after you, uh… after you threw that glass at me-"

"I threw it at the _floor-_ "

"Yeah, after you threw that glass at the floor- Sirius and I were talking."

"Talking about _me_ , were you? The anger was definitely back.

"Actually, yes. We were just- you're not _alright_ , Hermione, something… something is really wrong. And I mentioned that I bet Dumbledore would've known what to do. And that's ridiculous, because he's- he's _dead,_ right, so we can't ask him. But last night I was just laying there listening to you howl and throw yourself against those bars and I was just so _angry_ , that this happened to you, you don't deserve any of this…" He paused and took a deep breath. "But then I remembered. We _can_ still talk to Dumbledore."

 _"_ _The portrait,"_ she heard Sirius breathe from behind her.

"I didn't tell her about you," Harry told Hermione quickly. "I just- asked if there was a way that we could meet with him. She- we can go today. If you want."

"Dumbledore can't cure my lycanthropy, Harry," Hermione said sadly. "This is me, now. I'm stuck this way."

"No," Harry agreed. "But he might know something about the pack magic."

"Dumbledore doesn't know everything."

"He'll know _something,_ " Harry said confidently. "He always does."

* * *

 **NOTE #2** : Sorry if my Harry is a little OOC. I guess this is my own version of him. Is it weird that my own Remione story is making me ship Harmony? LOL! If you guys have good Harmony recs, let me know!


	7. Chapter 7

**NOTE:** Shit gets real in this chapter, y'all. YOU ARE NOT PREPARED.

 **CHAPTER 7**

 _ **May 12, 1998**_

Hermione did not want to go to see Dumbledore, if she was being honest. And she was. Being honest, that is. She'd told Harry that while she was, of course, grateful for the thought, discussing her deepest secrets and problems with a dead man wasn't exactly the way that she'd planned on spending the day after the full moon. He'd given her that pleading, ever-so-concerned look and asked her to just try it and Sirius had shrugged and agreed that it probably couldn't hurt, so she'd reluctantly agreed. That was how she found herself, a few short hours later, stumbling out of the fireplace in Professor McGonagall's private quarters. The woman had immediately helped her to her feet and embraced her warmly.

"It's lovely to see you again, Hermione." Hermione smiled weakly back at her. "I could say the same, Professor."

"Oh, you know you can call me Minerva."

Harry and Sirius emerged from the fireplace right behind her; pleasantries were exchanged and the four of them started off down the hallway to the Headmaster's office. McGonagall explained that while the Headmaster typically stayed in the quarters attached to their office, she elected to remain in her old rooms- she'd been there for far too many years to switch now, she said.

Hermione was somewhat surprised to see that the castle was full of students. School had, of course, been cancelled following the battle due to the mass destruction inflicted upon the building. Final exams were to be held elsewhere, but there were a healthy number of people staying in the castle to assist with the rebuilding effort. As they made their way down the hall, they passed people working in groups- repairing portraits, mending the stone walls, setting runes in the foundations of each floor. Several of the groups included familiar faces- but none stopped to say hello. Instead, they eyed Hermione warily, their eyes lingering on her scarred face and bruised arms with a mix of curiosity and pity. She felt herself flush with embarrassment and anger; she let her hair fall from behind her ears to cover her eyes and picked up her pace, walking briskly until she stood just outside the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

"Hermione-" Sirius started, but she just shook her head minutely. McGonagall frowned, but she didn't press the issue.

"The password is 'chocolate frogs,'" she told them. "Albus should be awake, he knows that you are coming to speak with him. I trust the three of you to conduct yourselves accordingly." Hermione nodded and McGonagall smiled. "It really was wonderful to see you, however brief." And with that, she started away from the office, her long cloak streaming behind her.

"Chocolate frogs," said Harry, and the three of them started up the staircase to see Dumbledore. When they stepped through the door into the office, they came almost immediately face to face with the man in question; his portrait was affixed to the wall directly opposite the door, and he was smiling brightly at them. Hermione averted her eyes and took a seat in one of the three chairs positioned on the opposite side of the large, dark wood desk.

"If it isn't Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Black. Three faces I must say I'm absolutely delighted to see again." Even in portrait form, Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling. In Hermione's hyper-anxious state, it was more than a little unsettling. She clenched her jaw.

"Professor," she murmured politely, keeping her eyes on the desk in front of her. Her face was still flushed from the scrutiny she'd received upon entering the castle, and she was already anxious to get the pleasantries out of the way so she could leave. Sirius gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Professor Dumbledore," said Harry without preamble, "we're here because of Hermione."

"Ah, yes." At that, the old professor's face turned grave. "I was deeply sorry to hear of both the unfortunate events that led to your contraction of lycanthropy and, of course, of your loss, Miss Granger. Remus Lupin was a brave man."

At the word _lycanthropy,_ Hermione's heard dropped into her stomach. "My- I'm sorry, Professor, how do you know about… about me?" She'd assumed that she would have to tell him, if she hoped to gain any advice from him, but she was deeply unsettled at the thought that her affliction might be becoming common knowledge.

"I'm afraid I'm no longer a professor these days. You are more than welcome to call me Albus, if you prefer. I find that I certainly would." He was twinkling again. "As for your condition- as you might recall, I was sharing this very office with one Severus Snape for much of the last year. He was quite disturbed- furious, in actuality- about the treatment you three, and Mr. Weasley, received at Malfoy Manor. Fenrir Greyback in particular was an unfortunate shell of a man. Forgive me for being so forward, but I assure you, your secret is safe with me."

"We trust you, Albus," Sirius offered. "You… you kept Remus's secret for years. He's actually why we're here."

Hermione exhaled shakily and Harry shot her a reassuring glance.

"Professor," she started, because no matter what Dumbledore said, there was no way she was calling him Albus, "how much, exactly, do you know about werewolves? Specifically, werewolf packs and… and the magical bonds that that entails."

"We think Hermione and Remus had a pack bond-" Harry started to explain, but Hermione cut him off testily.

"We _do_ have a pack bond," she corrected. "I could _feel_ it."

Harry frowned, but continued. "They… they _have_ a pack bond. And ever since he… nothing's been the same. Her transformation last night was _horrible,_ Professor- _Albus-_ do you know anything? What can we do?"

There was a long moment of silence, and when the three living occupants of the room finally raised their eyes to meet Dumbledore's painted ones, he was staring down at them with an intently contemplative expression on his wrinkled face.

"Hermione," he said, startling her with the use of her first name. She didn't think Dumbledore had _ever_ called her Hermione before. "You have quite the set of friends. I'd say that you, Harry, and Sirius are quite lucky to have one another. You say you and Remus had a pack bond?"

 _"_ _Have,"_ she said again. "Have. Sirius and Harry, they're pack, too, but with Remus it was- well, since he was a werewolf, like me, our wolves- we could sense each other, it was different."

"You have no magical connection with Sirius or Harry?"

At that, Hermione furrowed her brows. "I… I do," she said slowly. If she concentrated hard, she could feel a shadow of the same warmth that her bond with Remus had offered. "It's there. I've never noticed it before, it's so faint." She looked at Harry and Sirius. "Do you feel it?"

Both men closed their own eyes for several moments and nodded uncertainly.

"Unsealed," Dumbledore was murmuring, almost to himself. "Hermione, your bond with Remus- did the magic disappear when he passed?"

The mention of his death send a cold wave of despair over her, like always. When she spoke it was in a small voice. "Yes. Vanished. I've felt… cold ever since."

"Yet you can still sense the magic between the three of you. I wonder if it isn't… yes, it must be… so very curious…" His musings trailed off into an incomprehensible murmur. Hermione shifted awkwardly in her seat and exchanged bewildered glances with Harry and Sirius. They both looked just as confused as she did. Finally, Dumbledore spoke out loud again, so abruptly that it made her jump in her chair.

"Harry," he said, "if you'll look to your left, just on that shelf… yes, yes. The gold one, if you will. I'd like Hermione to have it."

Harry moved slowly towards a shelf covered in the whirring instruments that had filled the office when Dumbledore was Headmaster. They were all silver but for one- a small golden cylinder with odd levers protruding from one side. He waved aside the cloud of strong-smelling smoke that a strangely teapot-shaped object seemed to be emitting and reached for the cylinder; it was surprisingly warm and its weight was comfortable in his palm. He ran his thumb over its smooth surface once before crossing back to Hermione's chair and offering it to her.

"What is it?" Hermione asked as she reached out to take the object from Harry. Dumbledore only smiled maddeningly.

"I believe that it might help you find what you are looking for," he said simply. He regarded her for a long moment, and she found herself struggling to hold his gaze. "Some bonds transcend reality, Hermione. I truly wish you the best in life."

"Professor," she started, but a light snore cut her off. Dumbledore's eyes were closed, spectacles drooping on his nose. "Why, that old-"

 _"_ _Hermione!"_

"What?! There is no way he fell asleep that fast. He just hands me a random magical device with no explanation and then has the nerve to _pretend to be asleep_ when I try to-"

"Okay, I think we should go home!" Sirius grabbed onto her arm and steered her towards the fireplace, tossing a bit of Floo powder into the flames and gently prodding her forward before her rant got out of hand.

"Good call," came a voice from an unknown portrait, snickering as Hermione vanished with a flash of green.

"He _is_ quite batty sometimes," said another.

Sirius caught Harry's eye and shook his head. _"You're_ telling _me."_

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

"What do you suppose it does?" Harry asked for what must have been the thousandth time. It was well past nightfall, and Hermione had spent the hours since leaving Hogwarts combing through the modest collection of books in Lupin Cottage, searching for something, _anything_ that would give her information on the strange little instrument Dumbledore had gifted her.

"I don't _know,_ Harry," she said exasperatedly. "He said it would help me find what I'm looking for… so maybe, I don't know, it's like the Deluminator? But nothing happens when I press the levers. None of these books are useful, either- for all we know, Dumbledore created this himself…"

"We could go to Grimmauld Place and check the Black library," Sirius offered. He looked as though the suggestion pained him and Hermione managed a weak smile at his discomfort.

"That's a good idea, Sirius. Maybe I'll go tomorrow… For now, I'll just keep looking through these… I don't _think_ I'll find anything but you never know. Really, I should check the Hogwarts one…"

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

It was well after midnight when Hermione slipped into Harry's room, clutching the little gold cylinder in one hand. She'd spent hours looking through the books, and still hadn't found a single scrap of relevant information; she'd given up for the night and didn't want to sleep alone, so she went to Harry. After the first night she'd stayed in his room, the awkwardness had dissipated and he immediately pulled back the blankets for her to climb in next to him. She crawled into the bed, wincing at the pain in her limbs; her body was still wrecked from the transformation the night before. She settled herself against Harry's side and lay there, staring at the ceiling, relishing the warmth beside her and running her fingers over the smooth metal surface of Dumbledore's mysterious instrument. It was infuriating her.

"You'll figure it out," Harry said after a few long moments of silence, rolling onto his side to face her. "It's weird, Dumbledore's weird- but you... you always figure it out. It's what you do."

"I just… Why would he give this to me and then- I get _no_ explanation and... and it's not like there's any _history_ of these things, I don't even know what it's _called-"_ She could feel herself getting more and more worked up as she ranted, the wolf beginning to claw at the inside of her chest, threatening to take over. "How is this meant to help me, all it's done is drive me mad- I can't live like this Harry!" Her grip was steadily tightening around the cylinder.

"Hermione- _Hermione, look!"_ Harry suddenly sat bolt upright in the bed and gestured wildly towards the cylinder grasped in Hermione's fist. It had started to glow bright, shimmering gold, and hidden between her clenched fingers were what looked like bright white _words-_ "It says something, look at it! Quick!"

"It's… I think it's an incantation. _Exscindo Exitus."_ When she said the words, the cylinder flared even brighter, if only for a split second.

"Maybe try the levers?" Harry suggested excitedly. Hermione nodded and tipped all three of the levers into the opposite position, then tried again.

 _"_ _Exscindo Exitus!"_ The instrument flared brightly for a second time, but this time it didn't go out. The gold suddenly burned white hot in her hand, and Hermione cried out in pain. She tried to drop it but it was as if the metal had seared itself to her hand, stuck there of its own volition.

 _"_ _Bloody- fucking-"_ Harry was on his knees in a flash, kneeling over her- he reached forward and attempted to tear the cylinder from her grip, but then it was burning him, too, and he shouted loudly. The pain was growing more intense and beginning to spread from Hermione's palm up her arm, like heat coursing through her veins and filling her entire body. She heard herself scream shrilly and suddenly the bedroom door burst open- their shouts had woken Sirius, and he leapt into the room, wand drawn.

 _"_ _What the fuck?!"_ He jumped forward, but Harry was yelling at him not to touch it, and before he had time to figure out _what the bloody fuck to do,_ it became abundantly clear that something was very, very wrong.

The heat had spread all through Hermione's body, now, and started to fade almost as quickly as it had appeared- but with it, a new sensation was replacing it, a sensation that felt frighteningly similar to the crushing dark of Apparition. She looked up at Harry through blurry eyes and knew that he felt it, too, and then suddenly their faces were mirrored expressions of horror- because they were starting to fade.

Sirius leapt onto the bed, shouting, and tried to grab onto some part of either one of them, desperate to anchor them to the room, but it was in vain. Held together by the little gold instrument, Harry and Hermione grew steadily fainter and fainter, their voices growing quieter by the second, until they disappeared entirely and Sirius Black was left alone in Harry's dark bedroom, grasping hopelessly at thin air.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Hermione heard her own voice, and Harry's, growing quieter and quieter as they faded from the bedroom, leaving Sirius behind. The moment he vanished from view completely, they were thrown into complete blackness; it felt like an odd mixture between Apparition and Portkey travel- the darkness around them was crushing, but it was accompanied by the strange sensation of flying backwards very, very fast. They were moving for what felt like hours, clinging to each other's free hands, seared together by the cylinder in their others. Hermione had just begun to accept the fact that she was doomed to an eternity of soaring uncomfortably through space when she was thrown abruptly out of the black and tumbled painfully onto a hard, wooden floor. She yelped in pain when Harry fell heavily on top of her and knocked her breath away- they both laid there, gasping, not even noticing when the cylinder separated from their hands and fell to the floor with a dull _thunk._ It was only when she heard the sound of a throat clearing softly somewhere above her that Hermione realized she was _definitely_ not in Harry's bedroom anymore.

"Well, well, well," said a delighted voice. "It appears as though one of my inventions has been at least partially successful. Would you care for some tea?"

At the sound of the voice, Harry and Hermione both scrambled backwards in a panic- they were both thoroughly disheveled, wandless, and still in their nightclothes… and realized they were staring into the face of one Albus Dumbledore, _very_ much alive.

* * *

NOTE #2: Muahaha! Definitely leave me your thoughts on this one, lovelies! I'm sorry if the writing seems a bit rushed, I wrote this all in one go.


	8. Chapter 8

**NOTE:** He's baaaack! Have I mentioned I hate writing Dumbledore?

* * *

 **CHAPTER 8**

 _ **September 3, 1976**_

"P- Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione stuttered in her shock. Harry was gaping, open-mouthed, at Dumbledore, apparently unable to speak.

"That would, indeed, be me," said Dumbledore kindly. "Now if you two would be so kind as to give me your names- you're students, I presume?"

Hermione stared at him, head spinning. _Did we time travel? Is this some kind of hallucination?_

"My name is Hermione Granger," she said slowly, "and this is Harry Potter."

"Potter!" Dumbledore said brightly. "Yes, I can see the resemblance…"

The sound of his own name seemed to snap Harry from his reverie and he lurched to his feet. "How are you-" He started to ask bluntly, but Hermione reached over and slapped his leg from where she still sat on the floor, cutting him off with an exasperated _"Harry!"_ If they really had time traveled, the last thing they needed was to inform Dumbledore of his death and possibly muck up the past less than five minutes after arriving there.

"Professor," she said again, "would you mind telling us the date?"

"Of course, Miss Granger. Today is the third of September, 1976. Incidentally, it's around four o'clock on Friday afternoon."

"I'm sorry, _did you say 1976?"_ Harry spluttered. "So we- we _time traveled?_ Using _your_ bloody instrument thing? You meant for this to happen?!"

"I'm afraid, as always, it's a bit more complicated than that, my dear boy." He strode around the desk and flicked his wand over a garish pink teapot, causing steam to begin rising from the top. With another wave, he'd conjured a set of equally tacky teacups and the pot rose up in midair to fill them. "Tea? I must insist."

Hermione stumbled to her feet and took a few short steps towards the same chair she'd sat in only a few hours ago- _over twenty years in the future._ She accepted the teacup but held it between shaking hands without taking a sip. As she lifted her hand to take it, she noted that her palm was crossed with a shiny, silvery scar in the shape of the cylinder that had seared itself to her hand. _Great,_ she thought. _Another scar._ She wondered if Harry had a matching one. Dumbledore waited until the two of them were seated across from him and clutching steaming cups of tea before speaking again.

"May I inquire as to the circumstances of your arrival?" He asked them. They both stared at him incredulously.

"I mean no disrespect, but we could ask the same thing of you, Professor. You- you _gave_ me that thing, earlier today, or- well, today where we came from. You told me it would help me find what I was looking for, but you wouldn't tell me what it did."

Dumbledore took a long sip of his tea. "I must confess that I, myself, am as flummoxed as you are, Miss Granger."

"You're- _what?_ But it was your instrument that-"

"Yes, yes. My instrument was, in fact, designed to help its keeper out of several rather unfortunate circumstances. The trouble lies in the fact that I gave it to you twenty years from now, you understand? It took the two of you here specifically, so there must be something for you both…"

Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself before speaking. "Harry arriving here was an accident, sir- he was with me when I figured out how to work it. He tried to take it from me when it started to burn my hand and it forced him to come here, too."

"Very curious, indeed…" Dumbledore peered down his long nose towards her, even as he absentmindedly swirled the tea in his cup. "Why did I give you the instrument, Miss Granger?" He asked her again.

"I'm not- I don't-" Hermione struggled for words. "I don't know how much we should say, Professor. I'm not sure what your invention was meant to do, but I think it's best if we get back to our own time as soon as possible. If we change anything…"

"I'm afraid that changing the past would be impossible. This is your timeline now, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter."

"This is our- _what?_ My _parents_ are here, they're- we could erase our entire existence!" Harry finally spoke; he looked incredibly agitated. "I don't know what's going on here but I doubt it's what Hermione needs to heal- not to mention I don't exactly fancy being stuck constantly struggling to avoid anyone who possibly knows me in the future. This isn't our timeline; our timeline is currently supposed to be _1998_ …" He trailed off when he caught sight of Hermione's face. She had gone sheet white- cheeks pale, lips parted- but her eyes were open wide and flashing gold. "Hermione?"

"He's here. That's why you- he…"

Harry's expression went from one of confusion to one of pitying comprehension in seconds, but before he could offer Hermione any comfort, she'd already flown into a rage. She had leapt from her seat so quickly he barely had time to register the movement; she looked truly frightening with her eyes wide and amber and her teeth gritted in the beginning of a snarl.

 _"_ _You knew! You knew what you'd be doing to me!"_ She wasn't shouting, but her voice was shaking with barely concealed fury.

"Hermione-"

"No! He _knew_ and he still- I'm-" She took a deep breath, nostrils flared. "Did you know I'm a werewolf, _Professor?_ Did you know that I had a pack bond with Remus Lupin? Did you know that he _died_ and it has _fucking destroyed me?"_

Dumbledore's expression remained even, but his eyes betrayed him. The mention of Remus appeared to have sparked the beginning of understanding in him, but Hermione had yet to notice.

"How was _this_ meant to help me? The moment I see him everything will come back, and I can't- I won't be able to- _If he so much as glimpses me I could destroy the future!_ " She could feel angry tears threatening to spill over her eyelashes as she glared at Dumbledore- the fact that he still looked so unconcerned infuriated her, and she took an angry step towards his desk. "Send me back. Now."

The old Professor's typically sparkling blue eyes softened at that. "I'm afraid I can't do that. It's as I said, Miss Granger- _this_ is your timeline now."

"What do you mean, this is our timeline now? Do you mean we can't go back?" Harry asked, an expression of horror dawning on his face. "But we're- what about everyone we've left? What about Ron? What about _Sirius?"_

"The incantation would not have succeeded in bringing you here had your timeline been truly suited to your destiny, Mr. Potter. The very fact that you are sitting in front of me proves that your presence in this time is, somehow, imperative. I cannot speak for your friend Ron, but assuming that your Sirius is, indeed, one Mr. Black, you'll find that he is as present in this time as Mr. Lupin."

"My _destiny?_ You said that Hermione would find what she's looking for! We didn't exactly sign up for _time travel!"_

"I'm afraid this is a bit more complex than time _travel._ You've completely reconfigured your own timeline. Your own past no longer exists. If Miss Granger truly had a bond with Mr. Lupin that was severed upon his death, it is likely that, had she remained in the old timeline, she would not have survived."

Hermione's sudden rage had subsided and been replaced by a mix of conflicting emotions- fear and anger at being misled into the strangest, most potentially dangerous situation of her life (as she didn't _truly_ believe their own future had been _completely_ erased) combined with a fluttering feeling of hope that being reunited with Remus, even in this new timeline, would bring everything back to how it was. She took a few slow steps backwards and sank back into her chair beside Harry, who was looking between her and Dumbledore with an unreadable expression.

"What would you have us do?" She finally asked Dumbledore. "If we're truly stuck here. We can't exactly go around telling everyone we're from- what, the future? A different _dimension?"_

At that, Dumbledore smiled at her. "Well, Hogwarts would certainly be delighted to have the both of you. You're both seventh years? Transfer students are rather uncommon, of course, but you'll find our staff quite welcoming."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. "Could we… would you mind if Harry and I spoke privately for a few minutes, Professor?"

His eyes twinkled with what seemed like amusement at the request, but Dumbledore stood up and, with a nod, disappeared through a door behind his desk that neither of them had noticed previously.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't even know that was there."

"Well, we knew the Headmaster's quarters are traditionally connected to the office- I suppose it makes sense."

"Uh… yeah. Hermione- as interesting as the Headmaster's quarters are- _what the bloody hell is going on?"_

"Honestly? I haven't the faintest. According to Dumbledore, this is our timeline now. What do you suppose that means? That we've- I don't know, erased the other one?"

"If we'd erased the other one, how would I exist? I don't even know if my parents are _dating_ by now!"

They both paused, deep in thought. Finally Hermione brought both hands up to her face and groaned in frustration.

"I don't know," she said again. "We're going to have to do more research. In the meantime… well, I suppose we could stay at Hogwarts. We didn't ever get to do our seventh year… it could be a good experience, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes and barely suppressed a groan. "Only you would be excited about voluntarily going back to school after we've graduated, Hermione."

"But we _didn't_ graduate!" She said indignantly. "That's the point!"

"Right, well, this doesn't change the fact that we'd be at school with _my parents and Remus and Sirius!_ And… and _Peter,"_ he finished darkly. "Hermione, Voldemort's in power here. Even if we really are in some kind of new timeline…"

"You're right. It'd be so, so dangerous for anyone to know where we're from… but…" She looked torn between wistful and terrified. "Harry, I don't know if I can handle seeing- being around Remus." Her voice cracked. "What if it just makes things worse?"

"We can come up with a cover story," Harry said quickly. "No one will know where we're from. Maybe seeing Remus will help, Hermione. Not to mention- I mean, it's… it'd be kind of cool to get to know my parents, you know?" He grinned a little awkwardly. "Even if we're only here for a little while. We could say we're from, ah… America. Are there wizarding schools in America? Besides the Salem Institute, of course."

Hermione looked amused. "What's wrong with the Salem Institute?"

"Well, er… aren't they an all girls school?"

"They've been co-ed since the 1800s, Harry," she said with a laugh.

"Right, well we'll say we're from the Salem Institute, then. I promise it'll be okay, Hermione. If you don't want to see Remus I'll make sure you don't have to. Let's tell Dumbledore we want to-" Harry hadn't even finished his sentence when Dumbledore reemerged from the door behind his desk and picked up his teacup as though he hadn't ever left the room. They both stared at him bemusedly.

"I see you and Miss Granger have made a decision? Splendid! What houses were you in in your own time?"

"We were both Gryffindors, Professor."

"Excellent! Let's get your schedules taken care of and I shall escort the two of you to Gryffindor Tower." His eyes sparkled. "I trust you know the way, but you are, after all, transfer students."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

An hour later, each armed with brand new seventh-year schedules and a stack of borrowed school uniforms, Harry and Hermione found themselves standing outside the Fat Lady's portrait.

"The password is _catweazle,"_ Dumbledore told them. "I trust the two of you will come to see me if any difficulties arise?"

"Of course, Professor. Thank you for all your help," Hermione said somewhat bitterly. She was still unsure of her stance on Dumbledore's relentless meddling. He'd managed to send her back in time from _beyond the grave,_ for Merlin's sake! She and Harry waited until Dumbledore had rounded the corner back in the direction of his office before giving the password and clambering through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. Immediately upon entering, they were both assaulted with feelings of nostalgia, but also instantly comforted by the familiar (if slightly less ragged) couches and roaring fire. There were only a few students in the common room, and none of them paid any attention to Harry and Hermione- they appeared to be distracted by either books or, in one case, a rather intense game of Exploding Snap. They made their way to an empty couch on one side of the tower and sat together, still feeling slightly surreal.

"It must be nearly dinner," Hermione commented. "I suppose we're going to take everyone by surprise in the Great Hall, huh?" The words were barely out of her mouth when a girl's excited voice greeted them from across the room.

"Oh, hello! You must be the new transfer students! Professor McGonagall _just_ told me! What are your names? I'm Lily, Lily Evans. I'm Head Girl, I'll be more than happy to help the two of you adjust to Hogwarts!"

Hermione sneaked a glance at Harry- he was staring at Lily, a wide-eyed expression on his face. She jabbed him in the side with her elbow and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Er, hi, Lily," he said. "I'm Harry. Harry, ah… Granger."

Hermione coughed loudly to cover up her shock at Harry using her name, but she managed to avoid looking as surprised as she felt. "I'm Hermione Granger," she told Lily in between coughs. "Harry's sister."

"Oh, that's nice that you got to transfer together! You're twins, then? That's funny, you don't look anything alike!"

"Yes, everyone always says that," Hermione said with an awkward laugh. "Anyway, er… Head Girl, yeah?"

"Yeah, I was really pleased that I got it," Lily said happily. "I've wanted it since my first year. Did you have prefects at your old school? Where did you guys transfer from, anyway?"

"The Salem Institute," said Harry.

"In America? I thought that was an all girls school."

"Er, actually, it's been co-ed since the 1800s," Harry said with a smug glance at Hermione. She rolled her eyes in return.

"Yes, we had prefects," she told Lily. "I was one during my fifth and sixth years."

Lily grinned. "A fellow rule-follower, then? _Some_ Gryffindors aren't so considerate." Her tone was teasing. "It's almost dinner, do you guys want to come down with me? I'll introduce you to some friends of mine."

"Sure, that'd be nice," she said. "We haven't met anyone here, yet. Other than Dumbledore, of course."

In short order, Harry and Hermione were following Lily back out of the portrait hole and down the oh-so-familiar halls of Hogwarts. They made sure to pay her rapt attention as she rambled on about the school and gave them an overview of every floor as they made their way towards the Great Hall. When they finally arrived there, she described that for them, too.

"This is the Great Hall," she said with a wide gesture of her arms. "We have all our meals here. There's a table for each house, see, here's Gryffindor!"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as her eyes swept over the Gryffindor table. Seated near the center were four painfully familiar faces- Sirius, James, Peter and _Remus._ The moment she caught sight of him, the magic of the bond flared to life in her chest. She'd felt cold and empty for so long that the sudden change was overwhelming and she nearly stumbled- she felt Harry grip her shoulder reassuringly as they followed Lily towards her group of friends. The teenaged Marauders were eyeing the two new students curiously- Hermione could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to avoid making eye contact with Remus- if she had felt the bond return so abruptly, she _knew_ he had as well. Before she knew it they had arrived at the table and Lily was introducing them.

"These are our new transfer students, Harry and Hermione," she said brightly. "They're twins! Harry, Hermione- this is James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter." She pointed to each boy as she named them, then moved even further down the table. "And here's Mary, Frank, Alice, and Fay." The group of Gryffindors all waved brightly and slid down the bench to make room for Harry, Hermione and Lily- they found themselves seated directly across from the four Marauders.

"Twins, huh?" James immediately leaned on his elbows across the table to get a better look at the two new Gryffindors. "You don't look a thing alike, you know."

"Yeah," Harry replied, looking a bit dazed as he looked his father in the eye and echoed Hermione's earlier response- "Everyone says that."

"It's nice to meet both of you," said Peter, smiling softly. "We've never had transfer students before. Where did you guys come from?"

"They came from the Salem Institute," Lily supplied, slinging an arm around Hermione. "Hermione was a _prefect_ there."

"Ah, yeah," Hermione said with a weak smile. Her senses were in overdrive- she could separate Remus's familiar scent with ease, even over the hundreds of different dinner dishes scattered across the hall, and she was trying not to make a spectacle of herself breathing too deeply. She chanced a glance across the table and immediately regretted it- Remus was sitting stiffly on the bench across from her, hands clenched in his lap, chest rising and falling heavily. Her eyes widened a little at the sight and she quickly averted her gaze- only to meet Sirius's. He was looking suspiciously between her and Remus, and when she met his eyes he leaned forward a little, dark hair falling into his face.

"So, Hermione," he said pointedly, "what happened to your face?"

Her eyes widened, but before she could answer, Lily and Harry were both cutting in angrily.

"Sirius! You have the least tact of _anyone_ I have met-" Lily began.

"She doesn't want to talk about it," Harry said firmly, tightening his hold on her shoulder. There was an air of awkwardness about them, but James plowed right on in the conversation, seemingly oblivious.

"You know," he told Harry with a conspiratorial grin, "You could almost be a Potter. We've got the same hair. Girls _love_ the hair."

Lily reached across the table to smack him in the forehead even as Harry let out a loud burst of laughter.

"What classes are you going to be in, Hermione?" Peter asked her as he spooned gravy over his plate. "It's nice that you'll have the weekend to learn your way around before you have to start classes."

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. "I'm in Potions, Transfiguration, Defense- oh, I got into Advanced Charms-"

"Oh, Remus and I are in Advanced Charms!" Lily interjected. "That'll be great! Right, Remus?" She looked up at him and seemed shocked by how tense he appeared.

"Yeah," he said through clenched teeth. "Great."

"Remus, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I don't think I'm hungry, though, so I'm going to head back to the tower and turn in early." He stood up and gave a sharp nod in the table's direction before hurrying out of the Great Hall, robes flowing behind him.

"What's with him?" James stared confusedly after his friend. Sirius, on the other hand, had resumed suspiciously glaring at Hermione.

"I'm not sure," he said with slightly narrowed eyes, "But I'm going to go after him."

Hermione watched him sweep out of the Great Hall before turning to Harry. "I don't think Sirius likes me," she muttered, a pang of sadness shooting through her as she recalled Sirius hugging her tightly and calling her _Mini-Moony_.

"He just doesn't know you," Harry reassured in a low voice. "He's just worried about Remus. Look, we just need time. It'll be okay. Let's just enjoy dinner, alright?"

Hermione forced herself to smile and turned back to Lily, trying to school her pained expression. "How is Advanced Charms, Lily? Charms has always been my favorite class."

"Oh, I've only had one class so far, but it's been _great_ , Charms is my favorite subject, too!"

Lily, as it turned out, was _very_ talkative, and Hermione lost herself in the chatter about Charms and Potions and Hogwarts professors. Harry, beside her, was engrossed in conversation with James, laughing loudly and looking happier than she'd seen him in months- so she ate her dinner and listened to Lily prattle on, and later followed her up to the seventh-year girls' dorm and laid in her new bed, trying her hardest not to think about the warmth of the magic that had returned to her chest or the look on Remus's face as he'd stormed out of the Great Hall.


	9. Chapter 9

**NOTE:** Yay, an actual update! I apologize for taking awhile to get this posted. This chapter is a bit more setup, but there's action coming next, I promise! Thanks again, so much & eternally, for all your absolutely lovely reviews- I'm so pleased that so many of you love this story! Hope you enjoy this one :)

 **CHAPTER 9**

 _ **September 3, 1976**_

When James Potter and Peter Pettigrew lead Harry Granger-Potter to their dormitory after dinner on the night of September the 3rd, Remus Lupin was already in his bed with the curtains drawn shut, pretending to be asleep. The other Marauders _knew_ he was pretending because the area around his bed was completely, suffocatingly silent- thanks to a silencing charm, of course, and Remus was a sleep talker but, even still, he _never_ cast a silencing charm unless he wanted to be left alone. Besides, no one went to sleep at 8pm on a _Friday._

Sirius Black was still awake, of course- sitting in the little window alcove in between Remus's bed and his own, long legs stretched across the window seat and his back to the wall. The window in question was cracked open, and every so often the dark-haired wizard leaned a bit closer to the opening to exhale long, swirling grey plumes of smoke into the cool outside air. He didn't react when the other boys entered the room, just closed his eyes and took another long drag on his cigarette. He was the perfect picture of a brooding teenager.

"Padfoot," greeted James. When Sirius didn't answer, he took a few steps forward and frowned at the drawn curtains of Remus's bed. "Is Moony, ah… Is he alright?"

At that, Sirius turned cool grey eyes on James and gave a lopsided grin- "He's fine, just knackered. You know how he gets." If Harry hadn't known Sirius Black so very well in another life, he wouldn't have noticed that the charming smile was put-upon, or that the look in his eyes clearly said _"We are going to discuss this later, without Granger around."_ But he did know Sirius, and so he did notice, and was thus concerned. In _this_ timeline, however, he wasn't supposed to know anything about any of them at all, so he swallowed everything he wanted to say and instead gave Sirius a grin- one that was nearly mocking, if you looked closely enough- of his own.

"So, am I a… what was it? A _Marauder_ , now, then?"

Sirius looked alarmed and not entirely friendly. "You're- what?"

Harry gestured wordlessly to the battered, handmade banner strung across the doorway- MARAUDERS ONLY lettered in glowing gold across a crimson background. Sirius quickly recovered.

"Oh. Er, listen, mate, of course you'll be staying in the dorm with us and all, but- the Marauders are sort of, _exclusive to us,_ you know? You'll be, ah-"

"An exception!" James chimed in. "Look, maybe one day you could even be, like- an _honorary_ Marauder-"

 _"_ _Prongs-"_

"Stuff it, Padfoot, I'm not saying right away, and plus, he has to _prove_ himself first, _obviously-"_

"He can't just _become_ a Marauder, that's-"

"Honorary!"

"Right, but you have to _consult the other Marauders_ before making anyone an honorary _anything_ , so-"

Harry tuned out their bickering easily- in truth, the background noise was strangely comforting. He allowed himself a pleased, private smile before rolling over and allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **September 4, 1976**_

On Saturday morning, Hermione woke up several hours earlier than she would have preferred. The outside sky was still inky blue, and only the faintest hints of morning haze were beginning to peek over the treetops surrounding the castle. All four of her new roommates were still fast asleep, and so it was with practiced stealth that she slipped out of bed and crept quietly to the small chest at the foot of her bed. The little wooden trunk had appeared there the previous night while she was down at the Great Hall; Hermione had been pleased to discover a set of pajamas, a pair of blue jeans and several neatly folded jumpers alongside her stack of school uniforms. She slipped easily into the jeans and a pale pink knit and reached for her wand on the bedside table, only to frown when she remembered that it wouldn't be there. _Right, we're heading to Ollivander's today, then._

The common room was blessedly empty, glowing softly in the flickering light of the ever-burning fire. Hermione briefly considered going down to the kitchen for a cup of tea, but the fear of being caught wandering around when the castle was supposed to be new to her put a quick end to her whim. Instead, she lay out on the sofa nearest to the fireplace and stretched her arms over her head. She winced a little at the deep ache already plaguing her- she'd had the awful, _awful_ luck to arrive in a different timeline just a few days before a full moon when she had _just_ experienced one back home. For all her dramatic refusals of the potion only days before, Hermione was disheartened by the lack of Wolfsbane in this time- the transformations really were terrible without it. She planned on figuring out how to brew it as soon as possible, for both herself and Remus- if he ever decided to talk to her, she thought grimly.

The fire crackled softly, and Hermione stayed on the sofa, staring pensively through the tall windows flanking the fireplace until the sky began to slowly lighten into soft shades of pink and gold. It wasn't long afterwards that she was shaken from her reverie by the sound of footsteps on stairs- Lily emerged from the dormitory fully dressed and sat down on the armchair across from Hermione with a bright smile.

"Good morning, Hermione! Are you an early riser, as well, then?" Lily raised both hands and swept her thick red hair away from her face, gathering it to one side and beginning to plait it. Hermione watched in vaguely envious silence- she'd always wished her own hair could be so pretty and manageable. The silence dragged on just long enough to border on uncomfortable before she forced herself to answer.

"Morning, Lily. I'm afraid I just didn't sleep very well. New place, I guess?" _Or maybe the fact that Remus wants nothing to do with me and my entire body hurts and in a few days I'll violently transform into a monster for the second time this month,_ she added (to herself, of course.)

"Oh, I understand," the other girl said sympathetically. "I expect you'll settle in in a few days and then it will get easier. The other girls and I are all willing to help if there's anything we can do."

Right. Lily didn't know about Hermione's… minor werewolf problem. She was blissfully unaware that in "a few days," Hermione would be doing the exact opposite of "settling in." She wondered if the girl had found out about Remus, yet, and considered asking about him. That would probably be a bad idea.

"A few days, yeah," she echoed instead, with a forced smile. She already felt guilty for all the dishonesty- Lily was making a genuine effort to be friendly, and Hermione truly wanted to reciprocate- it was just so _difficult_ to navigate the days surrounding a full moon when one had to hide their own lycanthropy. "Hey, Lily- when does breakfast start, here?" She knew when breakfast started, of course- but she had to offer something, and she figured that staring at each other across the common room was an unlikely way to further their friendship.

"Oh, we can go down now, if you like! I was just about to ask you." Lily stood and flipped her completed plait over her shoulder, then started off towards the portrait hole before Hermione had even had time to answer her. "Earlier is better," the girl continued, "because then we get first choice of everything. There's these really excellent blueberry crepes…"

Hermione quickly stood and hurried after Lily, but she hesitated before climbing through the portrait hole. "Er, Harry and I are supposed to go to Diagon Alley, today," she said. "I've lost my wand, so I'll need a new one, and… do you think I ought to wait for him? Or-" She paused when Lily looked back at her through the open portrait and burst into laughter.

"Oh, Hermione, it's a Saturday! I expect the boys won't be up anytime soon. Do you think Harry will remember the way to the Great Hall- you know, in case he gets up before them?"

"Well- I suppose you're right about the weekend. Yeah, I'm sure he'd be able to find his way, actually…" Hermione suppressed a smirk at the hilarity of the situation- Harry had six years' worth of experience navigating Hogwarts. She shook her head softly and followed Lily out into the corridor.

The redhead looked back at her curiously as they made their way towards breakfast. "So," she asked, "how did you lose your wand, anyway?"

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

Navigating Lily's barrage of difficult questions turned out to be quite the ordeal. Hermione found herself eating far more than usual, if only to gain the distraction of stuffing her mouth full of crepes in order to avoid answering. She didn't _blame_ the other witch, of course. If she'd been in Lily's position, she would have been insufferably curious about the new transfer students, herself. It was just so very difficult to keep her story straight this early in the morning- a few days before the moon, and without Harry to help corroborate the tale.

"So why don't the two of you have American accents, then?"

"Oh, we're _from_ Britain, of course- but, er, our mother is American, so the Institute extended invitations to the two of us-"

"Your mother is American?! That's brilliant! And you lost your wand in the move? That's really unfortunate, I think I'd go spare if I ever lost my own wand… Oh, are the two of you Muggleborn?"

"Yeah, well, Dumbledore said that Ollivander would get me fixed right up, so… And, er, half-blood. Mum's a witch…" _Fuck._ She was desperately hoping the tale she was spinning wouldn't conflict with anything Harry might have said to the boys, and that she would have time to let him in on their apparent heritage before their backstory was ruined.

She was just spooning sugar into her fourth cup of tea when the very wizard in question stumbled onto the bench beside her, eyes wide and hair messier than usual (if it were even possible.) Hermione greeted him first with relief at being saved from the awkward interrogation, followed by concern at his disheveled appearance.

"Harry! Are you all right?"

He flashed a slightly crazed smile at her and gathered a stack of toast from the platter in front of him.

"I'm brilliant," he told her. Hermione was unconvinced.

"Harry-" she started to question him further, but he leaned past her to collect a jar of marmalade and breathed _"the bloody fucking MAP"_ into her ear as he did so. Hermione felt the blood drain from her face. Lily was watching the two of them with a curious expression on her face.

"Are you quite all right, Harry?" She asked him concernedly.

"Er, yeah. Listen, Lily, I sort of, uh, lost my wand… so Hermione and I have got to make a trip to Diagon Alley today. I just found out from the Headmaster that he'd like us to meet him early, so we'll just be going…" He slathered all four pieces of toast with marmalade and stuck them all together like some kind of massive marmalade sandwich, then stood up and offered his free hand to Hermione. She grimaced at the "sandwich" as she stood, shooting an apologetic glance at Lily and ignoring Harry's surely sticky fingers.

"Sorry, Lil," she said with a sheepish grin, hoping her use of the nickname would please her new friend and distract her from the clear spectacle she and her "brother" were making of themselves. "Thanks for having breakfast with me- we'll catch up later, yeah?"

"Oh, of course. I'll see you back at the common room later, Hermione, Harry!"

And with that, Harry and Hermione left Lily Evans sitting at the Gryffindor table, a half-finished plate of blueberry crepes in front of her and a bewildered expression on her face.

 _"_ _I can't believe we forgot about the map,"_ Hermione hissed as she and Harry swept out of the hall and towards Dumbledore's office.

"I know," Harry shot back, scowling. "I didn't think about it at all last night, even with all the Marauder talk, but I woke up in a panic this morning-"

"They actually call themselves the Marauders out loud? I thought that was like, a nickname bestowed upon them by the Professors."

"Hermione, they have a sign up in the dorm that says 'Marauders Only.'"

She suddenly burst into delighted laugher. "Merlin, they would. Did Sirius make it? I bet Sirius made it."

Harry hesitated. "I'm not sure, to tell the truth. He was a bit, er… well, _hostile_ to me last night."

Hermione's heart sank. "I'm sorry, Harry… This is all because of me…"

"What! Hermione, _no,_ you heard what Dumbledore said- we obviously got sent here for a reason, you know? Everything will be alright. I promise." He slipped his hand around hers and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I just- I feel like I've lost the whole pack at once. You know?" She hesitated. "I know I've still got you, and Sirius and R-Remus are _here_ but it's not the same…"

"Hey. None of that. I'm not different." Harry stopped walking and tugged on her hand to get her to face him. "I said it last night, but look, Hermione- _Mini-Moony-_ they just don't know us yet. Once everything gets sorted, they'll love you. I don't see how anyone couldn't."

"Plenty of people don't like me," she insisted. "Draco Malfoy doesn't." Harry snorted at that.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, honestly- but anyway, Malfoy isn't here."

Hermione chose to ignore the implication of _that_ and stared at Harry instead. "You called me Mini-Moony," she said quietly.

"Yeah… er, is that okay? I didn't mean to- I mean to say, if it makes you uncomfortable-"

"No. No, I like it. It feels a little like home."

Harry smiled- a little sadly- and pulled her forward into an embrace. "Mini-Moony," he whispered again, into the thick curls spilling over her shoulders and into his nose. "I love you, Hermione. You haven't lost me, you know."

"I love you too. Harry- thank you."

"Sure," he said, pulling away and graciously ignoring the tears clinging to her lashes. "Now let's find Dumbledore and hope he knows how to save our sorry arses, yeah?"


	10. Chapter 10

**NOTE:** Voila, Chapter 10! Hope you all enjoy :)

 **CHAPTER 10**

 _ **September 4, 1976**_

Lily sat alone at the Gryffindor table and started on finishing her breakfast, almost mechanically. She liked the new transfer students- really, she did- but she was starting to think that Sirius was right. They were a bit strange. Even still, she had been inclined to ignore it until the whole wand thing. Really, she had been sympathetic for Hermione's lost wand- even though losing a wand in a move was rather unlikely- irresponsible, at the very least- but Harry, too? The more she thought on it, the more she began to convince herself that they were making excuses for something. She pondered on just what they could be making excuses for. Loads of things came to mind, actually, but they all seemed rather unrealistic, or at least very sad. Survivors from one of the increasingly frequent Death Eater attacks? Subjects of some version of wizarding witness protection? She was still sitting there: swirling a cup of tea, a pensive expression on her face, when Sirius, James, and Peter entered the Great Hall and plopped down in the seats across from her.

"Morning, boys." Lily smiled vaguely at them and continued to fiddle with her teacup.

"Morning, Lily," they chorused back at her. She actually looked back up at them in confusion when she detected a distinct lack of enthusiasm in their greeting. Coming from James, that was positively bewildering.

"Er… are you all alright?"

The three boys exchanged worried glances with each other. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Something's up with the Grangers," Sirius said abruptly. James glared at him. "What! We can't go into _specifics_ , but that's the gist of it-"

"Well, _yeah_ , but you can't just go around _accusing_ them of things!"

"I'm not accusing them of anything, you git! I just said they're strange."

Lily tilted her head and watched them squabble for a moment. "There _is_ something about them," she finally said thoughtfully, successfully garnering the full attention of all three boys. "They've both been perfectly nice, but I get the feeling they're hiding something."

"Thank you!" Sirius slapped his hands onto the table, rattling the teacups and making her jump. Lily fixed him with a glare of her own.

"Did you know they _both_ got here without wands?" She asked.

James shook his head, dark hair flopping into his face. "Hermione, too? Harry said he had to head to Diagon today, but…" He trailed off.

"Yeah. I thought it was strange, too. I've had some ideas, but they don't seem very likely." She frowned. "By the way, where's Remus? Is he feeling all right? He didn't eat last night."

"Remus is fine, he's just a bit sick. Having a lie in. It's Saturday, Lil."

Her frown deepened. "Your… _feelings_ about Harry and Hermione don't have anything to do with Remus leaving last night, do they? Because I'm sure it isn't related. He didn't even speak to them, not really."

"We… ah- no, it doesn't," Peter put in, somewhat weakly.

"That was not at all convincing," Lily said drily.

"We can't exactly talk about the _specifics,_ Lil," James said in a pleading tone. "It's… well, you know, Marauder secrets and all that-"

"But the 'no wand' thing is a lot weirder than anything with Remus!" Sirius exclaimed. "That _proves_ there's something odd going on."

"I don't know… maybe they really did lose their wands. They moved all the way from America, after all," Peter put in softly. He was so quiet; Lily had almost forgotten he was even there.

"All they had to do to come from America was take a Portkey, Pete. It'd take a right prat to _forget_ your wand in the wrong country."

The four expressions at the table ranged from dark to suspicious to slightly concerned.

"I just…" Lily looked from face to face, feeling a bit helpless as she struggled to put her thoughts into words. "If it was You-Know-Who… I mean… they've been perfectly polite to all of us. Aren't they entitled to their own secrets?"

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

"Professor, we've got a problem." Harry and Hermione burst breathlessly into the Headmaster's office, minds awhirl with panicked thoughts of being discovered via the _Marauder's Map_ of all things. They were somewhat surprised to discover Dumbledore seated at his desk in a bright purple dressing gown, casually stirring sugar into a fresh cup of tea. He smiled widely at them as they entered.

"Ah, Mr. and Ms. Granger! You've arrived rather earlier than I anticipated. I expect it has to do with the 'problem' you've experienced?"

"Er… well, it's a bit of a complicated story, Professor. You see, my- ah, James, Potter I mean, he has a… map," Harry blurted.

"A map?"

"Yes, a map," Hermione supplied as Harry flushed red. "A map that shows the names and locations of every single person currently on Hogwarts' grounds."

"Ah. And you are worried that this map will reveal your true names?"

Hermione and Harry both nodded emphatically. "We were wondering if there was- I don't know, a way that you could help us change it. We can't just take the map because they will notice something's wrong and we can't risk getting caught stealing it."

"I'm afraid we don't know _exactly_ how the map functions, but I suspect it's somehow tapping into the Hogwarts wards... getting its information from there. If you could just find a way to change how Hogwarts reads our information- well, mostly Harry's, since I should still read as Granger…" She trailed off and fixed the Headmaster with a hopeful gaze. He looked thoughtful for a few moments before answering.

"The Hogwarts wards are ancient and incredibly precise… I don't believe that I will be able to alter your identities on them. They were, after all, intended to prevent imposters from entering the castle undetected."

"But Professor Dumbledore-" Harry began to protest, a dismayed expression on his face, but he fell silent at a raise of the Headmaster's hand. Hermione, however, snorted, an image of Barty Crouch Jr. rising unbidden to her mind. She turned away before she was asked to explain.

"I may not be able to truly alter your identities," Dumbledore repeated, ignoring her outburst, "but I am certain I should be able to mask them."

"Mask them?" Harry asked blankly.

"Yes."

"So… I won't appear on the map at all, then? Won't that be just as suspicious?"

Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "I'm sure it will be suspicious," she said slowly, "but it should be easier to come up with an excuse for being _missing_ than for why your name is reading Harry _Potter_ , don't you think?"

Harry nodded, conceding her point. "Do you think… would you be ready to do it now, Professor? What do I need to do?"

He set his teacup aside and swept heavy purple sleeves back from his wrists in answer. "Of course, Mr. _Granger,_ " he said with a smile. "It is but a simple spell, now that I've thought of it, although only the Headmaster of Hogwarts would have the authority to perform it. If you would stand just there… Miss Granger too, I think, yes…"

Hermione started a bit when he addressed her. "Me?"

"Yes, my dear. I daresay things will be easier to be explained away if _both_ of the Granger siblings are missing from this map, rather than only one."

"Oh. Alright, then." With that, she stepped forward to face Dumbledore's desk beside Harry. The Headmaster raised his wand and began incanting lowly, waving the wand in a wide, swirling arc. Somehow, he still managed to look impressive and incredibly powerful, even in spite of the rather tragic dressing gown.

 _"_ _Obscuram presentiam... occulta latet... obscuram presentiam... occulta latet..."_

A warm, comfortable magical presence enveloped Harry and Hermione- she thought it wasn't unlike the way Ollivander's had felt when she first laid hands on her vinewood wand as an awestruck eleven-year-old. The sensation only lasted for about thirty seconds, but it felt like an eternity. When the warmth finally died away, she opened her eyes- she hadn't even realized she'd closed them- and found Dumbledore beaming at the both of them.

"Excellent," he said, setting his wand back down on his desk. "I believe that should solve your problem. Now… would the two of you like a spot of tea before you make the journey to Diagon Alley?"

"No thank you, Professor," Hermione said politely. "But… I actually have another bit of a concern, if you don't mind so many questions this early in the morning…"

He smiled good-naturedly. "Of course not, Miss Granger. What else is plaguing you?"

"Well…" She took a deep breath. "I know you're aware of my… condition, Professor." He just continued to look at her, waiting. She felt mildly irritated at his lack of expression, but plowed on anyway. "You know I'm a werewolf. And there's a full moon on Wednesday. I was just wondering where I'd be going to transform, seeing as I know the Shrieking Shack is spoken for."

At that, the Headmaster frowned slightly and began stroking his long white beard, apparently deep in thought. "The matter is one I've given quite a measure of thought to already, Miss Granger. I'm afraid to say that I do not yet have an answer for you."

"But… it's dangerous for- I have to be contained, Professor. I can't"- Hermione glanced wildly around, meeting Harry's encouraging gaze with a freshly panicked one of her own. "I know I arrived here so suddenly, and it's hard to- to find somewhere, so fast, but…"

"You have nothing to fear, Hermione. I will procure a safe location for you to spend Wednesday evening. I swear it." His typically twinkling blue eyes turned solemn, and she knew he spoke the truth.

A few short moments later, Harry and Hermione stepped towards the enormous fireplace at the back of the Headmaster's office, each armed with a handful of sparkling Floo powder. Since their removal from the reach of the school wards, they could have Apparated- but they still didn't have wands, and so Floo was the chosen method of transportation. Hermione went first- she tossed her powder down with a cry of "Diagon Alley!" and disappeared with a whoosh and a swirl of emerald flames. She had barely stepped out onto the hearth in the Leaky Cauldron when Harry appeared after her, stumbling forward out of the flames and grasping her shoulders for balance.

"Ow! _Harry!"_

"Sorry, sorry!" He grinned sheepishly at her, eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "Ready to get our wands back?!" He seemed so genuinely happy that Hermione couldn't help but smile back at him- his mood was contagious.

"More than ready," she agreed. "Come quickly, _brother_ mine- Ollivander's is waiting."

Harry stuck his nose in the air and offered her his elbow and she took it with a roll of her eyes- and the two of them set off down Diagon Alley. The main street was fairly empty, seeing as it was only nine in the morning, but otherwise the Alley seemed as if it had hardly changed in nearly twenty years. There were a few odd shops and street stalls that no longer existed in 1998, but the familiarity of most everything else was _comforting_. They made it nearly to Ollivander's without talking- just enjoying the atmosphere of the magical Alley and the anticipation of having their own wands back in their hands. "Hermione," Harry finally said, brow creased, as they passed _Magical Menagerie,_ "how much do you think will be different here?" There was a moment of silence before he elaborated. "I mean… if I come back to Magical Menagerie in fifteen years, do you think Hedwig would be there?"

The hesitant way he asked the question sent a rush of emotion through her. Harry had been acting perfectly strong since they'd been unexpectedly dumped in 1976- in fact, since the attack at Malfoy Manor. The reminder that he was hurting, too, was a bit sobering- she felt guilty for relying so much on him and offering him such little comfort in return. Hermione squeezed his arm a little tighter. "I'm not sure, Harry. But I'll come with you to look. Every year, if you want."

He smiled brightly at her and nodded at the store's window as they passed it. "Every year."

Ollivander's wand shop stood only a few fronts down from Magical Menagerie, looking the same as ever. The letters on the sign were still peeling, the windows still dusty- the door still squeaked softly as they pulled it open to reveal an interior that was just as messy and devoid of customers as they each remembered from their first trips to Diagon Alley.

"D'you think he hides in the back on purpose?" Harry murmured, bringing a smirk to Hermione's lips.

"I think it adds to the _effect_ ," she replied. "Taking us by 'surprise,' I mean." The boy rolled his eyes and stepped towards one of the many shelves lining the walls, examining the piled boxes of wands. Sure enough, only a few moments later, Ollivander himself swept from the back of the store in all his put-upon, mystifying glory.

"Good morning," he said softly, eyes glowing eerily in the dim light of the shop. "I don't believe I've seen the two of you before."

Harry coughed loudly from somewhere behind her. It sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh.

"No, sir," Hermione said politely. "We're Harry and Hermione Granger. We're from America. We've lost our wands in the move."

"We heard you're the best wandsmith in Britain," Harry added cheekily.

"I am the only wandsmith in Britain," the man said with a tilt of his head. "The owners of the wand shops you'll find down Knockturn Alley do not craft the wands they sell."

Hermione blinked at him- she hadn't even known that there were any wand shops down Knockturn Alley.

"Er… well then, I suppose it's lucky we came to you, then," she offered, feeling decidedly uncomfortable under his gaze. _This was a lot less weird when I was eleven._

The old wandmaker waved his hand and sent a small army's worth of magical measuring tapes and strange floating devices towards her, where they zoomed around her body and recorded their findings via the magical quill on Ollivander's desk. After a few moments spent examining the recorded measurements, the man turned away without any further comment, disappearing into the back and returning with a small stack of wand boxes.

"Try this one, my dear. Redwood and phoenix feather, eleven inches." He removed the box's lid with a flourish and held it out to her. Hermione had barely lifted the wand from the little pillow it sat on when he snatched it back out of her hand, shaking his head vigorously. "No, no, no… maybe this…"

The second wand he offered Hermione was cypress and unicorn hair- the desk in front of her promptly burst into flames when she waved it. The third and fourth had similarly undesirable results. After the fifth, Harry finally spoke up from behind her.

"Er, Mr. Ollivander- my sister's last wand was vinewood and dragon heartstring. Maybe…" He trailed off, but the man's eyes had already brightened.

"Vinewood!" He exclaimed. "Of course! I have just the thing…" He disappeared again, and Hermione looked over her shoulder to mouth _thank you_ in Harry's direction.

When Ollivander returned, open box in hand, Hermione audibly sighed in relief. There, on the pillow in front of her, was _her_ wand. She quickly reached forward to snatch it from the box, reveling in the familiar warmth that spread through her as she dragged it through the air, gold sparks trailing from its tip.

"Very good, Miss Granger. I daresay you've found your combination." She smiled gratefully at him and retreated to the back of the store.

"Now, Mr. Granger."

"Er… My wand was holly and phoenix feather," said Harry. "Y'know, if it helps…"

Ollivander waved his hand dismissively behind him as he disappeared once more behind towering shelves. When he returned, boxes levitating in front of him, Harry was already standing in front of the desk, practically dripping with anticipation.

"Holly and unicorn hair." Ollivander offered him the first box. Harry frowned.

"Sir, mine was-"

"I know, Mr. Granger. I'm afraid the only holly and phoenix feather wand I have in stock tends to be rather… disagreeable. I've just brought a few options."

The boy sighed, but reached for the wand all the same. He gave it a halfhearted wave, and no one was shocked when the lantern floating over Ollivander's desk exploded. With a wave of his own wand, the old man returned the shattered glass to its frame and offered Harry another wand. The second one sent wand boxes flying from the shelves with terrifying force. The third only smoked dangerously, emitting a high-pitched noise like a kettle. Finally, Ollivander sighed and extended the fourth box.

"Holly and phoenix feather," he told Harry. "Eleven inches."

Harry eagerly reached for the familiar, dark wood handle; he plucked it from the box and caressed the wood between his fingers for a moment before pointing it skyward and giving an enthusiastic flourish. He was _not_ expecting the resulting explosion. An enormous tunnel of flames blazed from the tip, roaring over Ollivander's head and setting four separate shelves alight. The old wandmaker yelped and waved his own wand frantically, simultaneously dousing his shelves with a jet of water and summoning the wand from Harry's grasp.

"No, no, no…" He pulled a fifth box from the stack and removed the lid. "Cypress and phoenix feather," he said with a sniff.

"But…" Harry was in shock. "Sir, Hermione's wand stayed the same, and… I mean, I've had that- I've had the holly and phoenix feather all my life. That can't be right."

"Wand combinations do not always remain the same, Mr. Granger. That particular wand tends to be very disagreeable, as I said. It's nothing to worry about- no, don't worry, you will find yourself a new wand! Now, if you'd try this one…"

Harry shook his head rather numbly, but took the wand all the same. Six attempts later, a shower of red and gold sparks finally emerged from the tip of a wand- cypress and unicorn hair, twelve inches. Nothing about his wand had remained the same- wood, core, or even length. Ollivander exclaimed excitedly when Harry finally found his match, but he was too lost in thought to respond in kind. He and Hermione paid for their wands and exited the shop in silence. When they were back out on the cobbled road, he turned to her.

"What the fuck," was all he said.

"I mean… it is a bit strange," Hermione said slowly. "Strange that only yours would change, I mean."

"I mean- I just- I didn't expect…" he trailed off.

"I know," she said. "But… well, you connected with the new wand, right?"

Harry pulled the wand in question from his pocket and gave it an experimental wave- another shower of sparks flew from the tip. "Yeah, I did," he said. "I suppose I'm not _upset_ , I just… I thought I'd have something… from home."

Hermione frowned. "It's… this _is_ home now, Harry. It has to be. Do you think… do you think maybe it changed because you've already defeated Voldemort? In our time, I mean."

The boy's face went slack in sudden understanding. "That's it. I'd bet you a hundred Galleons that's it. The… the _Horcrux,"_ his voice lowered to a whisper at the word, "it isn't in me anymore. With the connection gone, my magical signature must have changed…"

"Er, well… I'll pass on the hundred Galleon bet, but…"

Harry grinned at her. "Well, that's alright then."

He slung his arm over her shoulder and together they headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

"Would you lot just bloody _drop it?"_ Remus glared at his roommates from where he sat, cross-legged, on his bed.

"No, we cannot just drop it!" Sirius retorted. "You can't just hide away from everyone forever, Moony. I know the new kids are _weird_ but, let's be honest, there's _a lot_ of weird kids at this school-"

"It's not because they're _weird_ , you idiot! I'm telling you, it was- it's to do with my _problem_ , Sirius. My _furry little problem._ I looked at that girl and I wanted to-" he suddenly snapped his mouth shut.

"You wanted to what?" James prodded. He was looking at Remus with a much softer expression than normal, all traces of mirth gone from his features. It was only because of how utterly understanding he looked that Remus chose to continue.

"I wanted to _bite her_ ," he whispered, voice barely audible. "I felt like- I've _never_ been so close to losing control, and I'm not even… when I'm _human_ it's never like this, I felt like a _wolf._ A _monster._ "

The boys all fell into a few moments of vaguely uncomfortable silence.

"Look, Moony," James finally said, "You're _not_ a monster." When Remus snorted, he rolled his eyes. "Okay, you're not a monster _right now,_ and even then, it's only for a few hours a month- shut up, you know I'm right! The moon is only a few days away, your _wolfy senses_ are probably just going crazy, and the fact she's something new freaked you out." He waggled his fingers in the air when he said _wolfy senses_ and Remus let out a choked laugh.

"I think they're weird as fuck, but they're _nice_ enough," Sirius conceded. "We just- we can't let them think _we're_ the weird ones, right? We've got too many secrets for that." He grinned cheekily.

Remus sighed deeply and scrubbed his scarred hands over his face. "So... what, you think I should _talk_ to her?"

Sirius shrugged. "Something like that. Maybe more exposure will help with the wolfy senses, you know?"

"Will you two stop saying wolfy senses?"

"No."

Remus sighed again. "Fine. I'll talk to her. But not alone."

James and Sirius broke into identical, boyish grins. "Excellent."

* * *

 **NOTE #2:** Sorry for cutting off right before the Remus/Hermione interaction! It's coming at the beginning of chapter 11 :) This chapter was just getting really long so I chose to break it up. Next update should be faster than this one was as I've resolved to write at least 600 words on this per day!


	11. Chapter 11

**NOTE:** Stuff happens in this chapter! OOOH, DRAMA AND CLIFFHANGERS. You guys have been so lovely about this story so far... I seriously cannot thank you enough for inspiring me to write this. ANYWAY. Now that I'm done being gushy... I can't wait to hear what you guys think! Enjoy! :)

 **CHAPTER 11**

 _ **September 4, 1976**_

Harry and Hermione stopped in the Leaky Cauldron for lunch before Flooing directly back to Dumbledore's office. Hermione had argued that they could _Apparate_ now that they had wands, but Harry would hear nothing of it- "It feels like you're _suffocating,_ Hermione, why would we Apparate when we can just take the Floo?" She'd sighed and moaned but eventually resigned herself to the fact that she'd get her new jumper covered in soot and paid the single-knut fee to leave through the Leaky's fireplace- it was nearly noon by the time they returned to the castle.

Dumbledore wasn't actually _in_ his office when they stepped out of the fireplace and onto the hearth, which was a bit strange. In an effort to avoid the uncomfortable feeling brought on by invading the Headmaster's "private space," the pair quickly exited the room and descended the narrow staircase down to the corridor below. They were both fully intending to return to Gryffindor tower- they had made it barely halfway, however, before none other than Sirius, James, Peter, and _Remus_ intercepted them _._ The latter looked decidedly uneasy, but he had a soft smile plastered on his face all the same- Hermione could _sense_ his discomfort, though, and the disconnect between his appearance and his emotions made her shift nervously. _Why does he hate me? Is it the bond? Why is he pretending he doesn't?_

"Hello Granger, other Granger!" James greeted each of them, giving a dramatic bow in Hermione's direction as he turned towards her. "I see you've returned from Diagon Alley- care to join us in the Great Hall?"

"Well, we've already had lunch, but-" Harry started, glancing questioningly at Hermione. She quickly interrupted him.

"Of course we'll join you!" She smiled brightly, ignoring Harry's bewildered expression. "We've eaten, but we'd love the company." Remus may make her _nervous_ , but that didn't mean she wanted to actually _avoid_ him. In fact, the magic pleasantly humming in her chest wanted the exact opposite.

James beamed at her. "Excellent! Shall we, then?"

The six students grouped together and began to make their way down to the first floor. They made it almost all the way to the Great Hall in somewhat awkward silence, but Hermione was utterly distracted by the way her already sensitive senses flared with Remus's proximity. She could hear his heart pounding in his chest and wondered what was making him so nervous.

At last, Harry made some comment to Sirius- the other boy answered easily, and the sound of their banter provided a bit of background noise that only marginally helped to ease her nerves. As they passed through the massive double doors into the Great Hall, the four boys moved slightly ahead of the two werewolves (unbeknownst to them), leaving them to trail behind the group on the rest of the walk to the Gryffindor table. Hermione found herself peering through her fringe at Remus as he walked beside her- he appeared far more relaxed than he had before, in the corridor, but she could sense his unease thanks to their bond and her sharpened senses.

Sandy hair waved gently over his forehead and into his eyes- her heart sped up a bit at the sight; the boy was unbearably attractive and he clearly didn't know it. Hermione found herself studying him, mentally comparing his features to the treasured memory of the older Remus- of _her_ Remus. This younger version of him lacked many of the scars his older counterpart had borne; his hair was solid, sandy brown without the multitude of grey strands brought on by years of stress and hardship. She nearly jumped out of her skin when he tilted his head towards her and caught her staring. A hint of pink stained her cheeks and she made to quickly avert her gaze- but the sight of his normally soft green eyes flashing unmistakable amber froze her in place. A thrill shot through her and her breath caught in her throat; her own teeth scraped across her lower lip and suddenly she was wishing it was _his_ teeth on her lips and _that_ thought only made her flush deeper red.

Hermione was shaken out of her reverie by the group's arrival at the Gryffindor table. She took a place on the bench in between Harry and Remus, blinking rapidly and praying her own eyes weren't gleaming conspicuously golden. Harry placed a subtle, questioning hand on her elbow and tilted his head in her direction- she smiled reassuringly in response and poured herself a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"So, how was your first trip to Diagon Alley?" Sirius asked without looking at her or Harry- his focus was already on the food laid out on the table.

"Wicked," Harry said smoothly. "The past few days without a wand felt like I was missing an arm."

Hermione nodded emphatically. "Ollivander is a bit creepy," she said with a conspiratorial grin. "I'm never letting this wand out of my sight." James and Sirius laughed, and even Peter snorted amusedly into his goblet. She noted that beside her, Remus had shifted his body so that it was angled in her direction- it was a vast improvement from the previous night, and the gesture sent the bond aflutter yet again. His forehead creased, an invisible conflict flitting across his face- but at last, he appeared to come to some internal decision, and he sat up a little straighter to address her. She didn't notice the other three marauders eyeing him warily when he started to talk.

"We didn't really properly meet last night," he said. "It's Hermione, right? I'm Remus Lupin."

Hermione smiled brilliantly at that. "Yeah- Hermione. It's nice to meet you again, Remus. We'll have Advanced Charms together, I think." She extended her hand to him and he only hesitated for a second before reaching out to shake it. When their hands met, his eyes flickered again and dark brows shot up his forehead. His fingers tightened on hers for a split second, and he suddenly looked vaguely panicked; he released her hand quickly and gave an apologetic- if thoroughly bewildered- smile. Hermione watched as he swallowed hard, and then as the sudden terror disappeared from his eyes as he worked to mask his emotions. She assumed it was shock- the magic connecting them had flared more than ever as they touched.

"Yes," he murmured in a low voice, never taking his eyes off her face. "Advanced Charms." If she'd been standing, she surely would have stumbled. Instead, she gave another friendly smile and thanked Merlin that her friends across the table couldn't hear her racing heart. The atmosphere grew noticeably less tense as she and Remus smiled tentatively at each other- for all her wolf senses, Hermione couldn't hear the rush of thoughts racing through his mind at a million miles per hour.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **September 7, 1976**_

"No! It's not… I'm not _sure_ , not completely-"

"Shut up, Moony. You're sure or you wouldn't have even brought it up, not after fretting over it for the last three days."

Remus sank onto his bed, shoulders sagging. James, Peter, and Sirius all sat in a row on Sirius's bed, looking back at him with serious expressions.

"Okay," he conceded, "I'm sure about the… the _mate_ thing. Just not the _other_ thing."

"Er… could you explain how all of this came about, one more time?" Peter asked sheepishly. "This is all so _sudden_ \- these random transfer students show up and suddenly one of them is your _werewolf mate?_ I mean, it's, ah, great for you, Moony, but…" He trailed off.

Remus let himself fall backwards onto his blankets and covered his eyes with both hands. "I don't _know,_ " he groaned, "it just _happened._ I felt… the first night, I told you, I felt like I wanted to _bite_ her. It was- I've never felt that strongly before, not when I'm… well, human. But then the other day, when you guys convinced me to talk to her-" James opened his mouth as if to protest and Remus silenced him with a _look_ as he continued over him. "-when you guys convinced me to talk to her, it was- I don't know how to explain it, Merlin, I sound like a girl. I just- we _touched_ and I just _know_ , okay? There's some sort of bond between us. I can feel the magic. It feels like… like the pack bond I have with the three of you, but more."

"Well," Sirius said, a thoughtful expression on his face, "it certainly explains why she acted so _oddly_ that first night. I thought- well, I don't know what I thought. But if she feels this bond thing too, she was probably freaked out. Probably had no idea what was going on." He stood up from his place on the bed and made his way to the window seat, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his robe pocket. "What about the werewolf thing, though?"

"Well… at first I thought she was a- a werewolf, too, you know? I thought- I don't know, that that was why things felt so weird around her. Why _Moony_ comes out more. But now… well, it might just be that I felt that way because of the bond." He shook his head slowly. "It's just… a bit _mental._ I didn't even- I mean, the chances of… of someone like me ever finding a true mate is… it doesn't happen often. I've never met someone who… it just doesn't happen."

"This is _so great,_ Moony!" James bounced a little where he sat on the bed, hands slapping down onto his knees in his excitement. The noise made Remus flinch.

"What- how is this _great?"_

"I mean, aren't you happy to have found her? For all you talk about- about never being able to have someone, and- and _she's_ your someone, isn't she! Magic and fate are making this happen for you! It's amazing."

Sirius snorted. "Now who sounds like a girl?"

"Stuff it, Padfoot. This is Remus's _moment."_

Remus frowned. "It isn't, though. Her being my… my _mate_ doesn't change anything." He flinched when James raised his voice to argue indignantly.

"Like hell it doesn't! What did Sirius _just say?_ It's fate and magic! You can't _fight_ it-"

"It doesn't change the fact I'm a bloody _werewolf!"_ Remus stood quickly, fists clenched and heart racing. His eyes darted to the window where the moon hung round and bright in the nearly black sky. "It doesn't- _nothing_ changes that. Mate or not, I couldn't… I couldn't do that to her. She doesn't deserve… I'm ruined, and we barely _know_ each other, she probably wouldn't want me even if I wasn't-"

"Okay, first off, don't be a bloody idiot," James said scathingly. "You're not _ruined_. You'd think after years of hanging round with us you'd have caught on that not _everyone_ are arseholes about the wolf thing."

"You lot are different-" Remus started to protest, but James cut him off again.

"We're your _friends_ , Remus. Besides, what if she really _is_ a werewolf too? Then she _knows_. Hell, if she's a werewolf she might already know about the mate thing. What if she and her brother are having this same conversation right now!"

"Okay, but what if she's _not?_ It's not like I can just walk up to her and bloody _ask_ her."

"Why not?" Peter asked. The three other boys looked at him incredulously and he flushed. "Shut up, you lot, I didn't mean it like _that!_ I just meant you could- well, find a way to bring up hints, you know. Try to get _her_ to tell _you."_

"I'm not asking her," Remus said firmly. "I wouldn't want- it's awful when I feel like people are suspicious of me, I couldn't do that to her. And if she's _not_ … well, then I might just be outing myself, right?"

"But if she _is…_ " James trailed off, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

"You're all idiots," Sirius chimed in from the window seat. "No one has to ask her. If she _is_ a werewolf, we can find out ourselves."

"How-"

Suddenly, Remus understood. "The full moon's tomorrow," he said dully.

There were a few moments of silence.

"Don't tell me you'd _forgotten?"_ Sirius scoffed. His expression quickly faded when he caught sight of Remus's face.

"If you think for a moment I _ever_ forget where the goddamn moon is, you're a fucking idiot," Remus snapped.

"I didn't mean it like that, Moony. I'm sorry…"

Remus closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to coax the wolf back down inside him before he leapt at Sirius.

"I only meant that… well, if she's a werewolf, Dumbledore must know, right? She's got to transform somewhere. And we'll be with you tomorrow, Remus- we'll know if there's another wolf on the grounds. We can find out."

The four Marauders all exchanged glances, and after a few long moments, Remus nodded.

"Alright."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **September 8, 1976**_

"You should become an Animagus, Harry. Then I'd never have to do this without you." He laughed. She gripped his hand tightly in hers and leaned forward to press her face against the cool glass of the window overlooking the Hogwarts grounds.

"I'll get right on that, Mini-Moony. Want to do it with me?"

At that, Hermione turned towards him with a frown. "I don't think I can. I've never…" She trailed off. "I'll have to research that. Even if… my form would probably be a wolf anyway, right?"

Harry shrugged. "Only one way to find out. Maybe it'd give you something to focus on."

"I guess. I still wish you could come with me."

That morning, Hermione had received a note from the Headmaster at breakfast, informing her that the Groundskeeper's cabin had been cleared out and warded for her to spend the night in. She'd spent the day as if in a trance, attending all her classes without paying any actual attention to the lectures. That would have been unheard of for the old Hermione- but now it was different. The moon wreaked all kinds of havoc on her body and routine.

"I know," Harry said with a sad smile. "But hey, it'll be alright." She looked unconvinced. "You could always ask Sirius to stay with you. Of course, you'd have to tell him."

Hermione snorted. "Tell him what, that I'm a werewolf? Or tell him _everything?_ As if. He doesn't like me, here."

"He doesn't _dislike_ you."  
"Yes, well."

The two fell into a few minutes of silence. They both gazed out onto the steadily darkening grounds and Harry checked his watch.

"We should go," he finally said. Hermione clenched his hand so tightly he winced.

They both turned and started down the long corridor towards the entrance hall stairway. "I'm scared to do this again without the potion," Hermione said in a small voice. "To do it without Remus."

"We'll figure out how to brew it for next month," Harry said confidently. "I'll help you. And… and I'll be there in the morning, first thing, to take you to the hospital wing. I'm sorry I don't know all the healing spells Sirius did," he told her apologetically. "Otherwise I'd just help you down at Hagrid's."

"I know."

The two of them proceeded in silence all the way down the stairs and through the huge castle doors, across the grounds and to Hagrid's now-empty hut. All the furniture had been removed- stored Merlin-knows-where, leaving the small structure bare but for a small sofa and a few fluffy rugs. Hermione snorted at them.

"I'm going to tear those to shreds," she told Harry. He shrugged and watched as she walked to the center of the room and sat down on the floor atop one of the rugs, hugging her knees to her chest. She looked so very small.

"You'll be alright, Hermione," he told her, ignoring the pang in his chest at the thought of leaving her there alone. "I love you."

"Love you too..."

They exchanged one last long, sad glance before Harry looked up at the now-dark sky and stepped backwards out of the hut. He locked the door behind him and felt the wards Dumbledore had set flare to life, enclosing the small building with a soft buzz of magic. He couldn't help taking a long, strangely nostalgic glance at the Whomping Willow as it waved its branches against the inky sky… far under it, his father and Godfather would be there, accompanying Remus as he went through his own transformation. Harry stared at it for a few long moments, then turned around and slowly made his way back up to the castle. He didn't expect to sleep very well.

Lost in his thoughts, he never noticed the cool grey eyes hidden in the shadow- narrowed and following his every step across the grounds and back to the school.


	12. Chapter 12

**NOTE:** Very sorry for the bit of a delay in updating, my loves! This is a nice and long chapter... and hopefully it will make up for the wait ;) Please please please let me know what you think!

 **CHAPTER 12**

 _ **September 8, 1976**_

Sirius tumbled ungracefully out of the tunnel below the Whomping Willow and into the Shrieking Shack with a deep frown on his face. Peter and James were seated haphazardly on pieces of half-destroyed furniture, while Remus sat cross-legged in the center of the floor, looking pale and shaky. All three of the other boys looked up at the entrance when they heard him enter, and James sat forward eagerly.

"There you are, Padfoot! For a bit there we thought you weren't going to make it back."

Sirius scowled. "You know I wouldn't miss it. I was just…. Well, I got distracted following Granger and his sister."

"They're _both_ Grangers," Peter interjected unhelpfully, eliciting a snort from James. Even Remus managed to roll his eyes despite his sickly state.

"You know what he meant, Wormtail. Anyway…. Cough it up, Padfoot. Find out anything interesting?"

Sirius sighed heavily and ran fingers through his long black hair. "Well," he began, "she's a werewolf. That bit's for certain."

At that, Remus looked up, his expression half-startled and half-hopeful. "She's- oh, but that's awful- that poor girl… It's bad enough that I've got to…" He trailed off, shaking his head slowly and trying to mask the spark of hope in his voice as though he were ashamed of it. "Are you sure? How did you find out?"

"Trailed them out of the castle," Sirius said as he shoved James to the side to take the spot next to him on the rickety, barely-stuffed couch. "Apparently Dumbledore's having her change in Hagrid's cabin."

"And they didn't see you following them?" Peter asked disbelievingly.

"Nope. She was too busy crying to her brother about being afraid to transform."

" _Padfoot-"_ James started.

Remus's eyes flashed angrily at the blasé tone of Sirius's voice. "Of _course_ she's bloody afraid to transform," he bit out. "It's hell on earth. Is she… do you think this is her first time?"

"Nope," Sirius said again. "She mentioned other times, and- look, you lot, I'm telling you I was right. They _are_ hiding something. Something big."

"Well, clearly they're hiding the fact that Hermione's a werewolf, which is a pretty bloody big secret for most people who aren't us-"

"Stuff it, Prongs. Something _besides_ the werewolf thing. I'm serious." The fact that not a single Marauder made a _"You certainly are Sirius!"_ joke was a testament to the expression of pure solemnity on his typically mischievous face. He took a deep breath. "I think- I think they might be… _time travelers."_

A few beats of silence passed as the three other Marauders stared at Sirius with expressions of uncertainty. Peter looked gobsmacked, James looked as though he wanted to laugh but also didn't want Sirius to punch him, and Remus just looked confused. Finally he was the one who broke the silence.

"Time… travelers? That's… that's a pretty major accusation, Sirius."

"They know all sorts of things they shouldn't, Remus! Harry called her _Mini-Moony._ Where would he have gotten that from? I don't even think we've ever called you that in front of them yet, and even if we have, why _Mini?_ That would mean they know you're a werewolf, wouldn't it?" Remus frowned at him, but Sirius plowed straight on. "She told Harry that he should become an Animagus so that she wouldn't have to spend the moons alone."

James furrowed his brow. "Well, that's… maybe she's just had the same idea as us. I'm sure we aren't the only ones to have ever become Animagi to help a werewolf friend… could we?"

"Right, that's all well and good- but you know what he told her?" The other Marauders looked on with interest, so he didn't wait for a verbal response. "He told her, 'Well, you could always ask Sirius to stay with you. Of course, then you'd have to tell him.' And she said 'Tell him I'm a werewolf, or tell him _everything?'_ Then she went on about how I don't like her _here_! As if I know her anywhere else!" The further he got into his rant, the louder and more panicked his voice got. "I'm just so… I can't- what if she's like, my _kid_ or something in the future? And I've been a suspicious arsehole to her! Or- or what if-"

"Sirius! Look, just- just calm down, okay? I'm sure there's an explanation for all this that isn't so far-fetched as time travel," James said. Sirius still looked unconvinced, so Peter jumped in to try and change topics.

"On the bright side," he said with a smirk, "now that we know she's a werewolf, Moony's got to talk to her about the mate thing."

"Who gives a rat's arse about the mate thing!" Sirius shouted. Remus looked somewhat relieved- Peter looked affronted. Sirius ignored him. "Why aren't you guys freaking out about TIME TRAVEL?"

"Because we need to look into this more before we jump to conclusions, okay! I'm not saying I don't believe you- I mean, it's out there, but it would sort of explain a lot of the weird shit surrounding them…" James's expression turned thoughtful. "Let's just agree not to confront them about it until we've done some more… research. Right?"

A few more beats of silence, then reluctant affirmation. "Fine," Sirius said, "but if it does turn out she's my kid, I'm bringing fleas into the dorm."

"She is _not_ your kid, Padfoot," Remus said exasperatedly. "Anyway, she looks nothing like you."

James, on the other hand, looked positively gleeful. "Oh Merlin… but if she was, that would make Sirius Moony's _father in law_!"

Peter and James broke into boisterous laughter at that, though Sirius looked rather unsettled at the thought. Before he could argue any further, however, a pain-filled groan came from where Remus sat on the floor and all three Marauders immediately flew to his side without hesitation. Sirius began to rub soothing circles on his friend's back, and he made eye contact with James over the top of Remus's hunched form. They exchanged a look that clearly said _"We'll continue this later,"_ before turning their full attention back to Remus. The boy was now on his hands and knees, trying unsuccessfully to hold back the whimpers caused by the pain of his transformation.

"You're alright, Moony," Sirius said quietly, angling his face so that his friend couldn't see his grimace. Watching Remus suffer through the pain of his transformation every month was excruciating- though not nearly as bad as the pain Remus himself was undoubtedly feeling. He found himself thinking worriedly about Hermione- forced to transform alone, without the comfort of her brother or of any Animagus friends to stop her from injuring herself. The thought made him somewhat guilty- which was irrational, he knew, considering that she had gone out of her way to hide her lycanthropy from everyone but her brother and Dumbledore. Suddenly, he was wrenched away from his thoughts by a low howl from Remus, signifying that he needed to transform into Padfoot if he didn't want to be eaten by a werewolf. He quickly did so- but not before vowing to himself that one way or another, this would be the last full moon that Hermione would spend alone.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

 _ **September 9, 1976**_

Hermione woke in the wee hours of the ninth of September, screaming at the excruciating pain of her body reverting back into its human form. When her screams finally subsided, she found herself naked, bloody, and shivering on the now-shredded rug in Hagrid's empty hut. She pulled the tattered remnants of her robes towards her, wrapping them around her as much as she could- which was difficult, considering she could barely move. Once again, her transformation without Wolfsbane had been decidedly unpleasant. Unpleasant, in fact, was quite an understatement- she could feel the deep gouges all down her own arms and legs and bit back a choked sob.

Only minutes passed after her second transformation before the heavy wooden door to the cabin flew open and Harry rushed in, followed by Madam Pomfrey. Even in her weakened state, Hermione could tell that the older witch was scowling deeply at him.

"Out of my way, Mr. Granger," she said brusquely, brushing past Harry to hurry towards Hermione, beginning a barrage of silent healing and cleansing spells as she did so. He moved quickly around to squat down beside her and brush her tangled mass of hair away from her face.

"How are you feeling?" He asked worriedly. At that, Madam Pomfrey sent another glare in his direction, but Hermione only snorted- albeit weakly.

"Bloody awful," she rasped. Harry let out a breath he'd been holding in what seemed peculiarly like entirely inappropriate laughter. Hermione only squeezed her eyes shut as Madam Pomfrey set about healing the worst of her wounds and siphoning the blood off of her. As each wound disappeared, one by one, she felt steadily better. When she could stand shakily, the woman helped her to her feet and they set off towards the castle and the comparative comfort of the hospital wing.

Hermione found her eyes drifting unbidden towards the Whomping Willow as they walked. She wanted to ask about Remus, but considering that she wasn't supposed to know about his lycanthropy, she couldn't say anything in front of the mediwitch. Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly as if he knew what she was thinking.

It seemed to take forever to cross the grounds and make their way up to the hospital wing, but when they finally entered, Hermione collapsed gratefully onto the bed that Madam Pomfrey steered her towards. Only a few feet away, a bed that already seemed to be occupied stood with thick privacy curtains drawn around it. Hermione supposed that that must be Remus. She obediently swallowed the multitude of potions that the insistent mediwitch thrust towards her, and rapidly started to feel extremely sleepy.

"Harry," she said sleepily, "would you…?"

Harry eyed Madam Pomfrey somewhat apprehensively, but when she didn't react, he rounded the end of Hermione's hospital bed and climbed into it beside her. The woman narrowed her eyes, but didn't argue- apparently the fact that the two of them were "siblings" and that Hermione had just suffered through a werewolf transformation made her slightly more sympathetic to their whims. All Hermione knew was that she was glad for it. She turned gratefully into Harry's side, pulling the blankets right up to her chin, and was asleep within moments.

The boy shrugged helplessly at Madam Pomfrey, who rolled her eyes and, with a flick of her wand, set a privacy curtain up around the bed. Harry let out a heavy breath and rested his cheek on the top of Hermione's head. He had been up for most of the night worrying about her and about Remus- obviously, none of his roommates had shown up, though they had placed charms around the four of their beds to make it seem as though they were occupied. Harry knew better. He'd found himself seriously, almost desperately considering learning the Animagus transformation for the first time. Now, with the full moon over and the next transformation a month away, he found himself able to relax a little bit more. He closed his eyes and tightened his arm around Hermione's shoulder… before long, he, too, was asleep.

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

When Hermione woke for a second time, she was greeted with the sight of Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew, all sitting in a semicircle on the end of her bed, watching her and Harry sleep. In her half-asleep state, she was startled at the sight and found herself freaking out slightly more than was usual.

"What the hell!" She exclaimed. She sat up hurriedly, knocking Harry's chin with her head in the process and waking him up just as abruptly. He yelped as his teeth clacked together and then groaned when he noticed the Marauders. The sudden movement jostled Hermione's bruised and sore limbs and she grimaced at the pain. The three boys just continued to stare at her expectantly, so she shook her head slightly and repeated herself. "What. The. Hell!"

"Hermione," Sirius said earnestly, "we know." His hands were twisting the end of her blanket in a sign of uncharacteristic nerves. Hermione could sense the anxiety and… _was that guilt?_ … rolling off him in waves. His heart was even hammering in his chest. She eyed him suspiciously. _What on earth are they about to confess? Probably that they've figured out my lycanthropy…_

"You… know?"

"We know you're a werewolf."

At that, Hermione closed her eyes and let out a small groan. _Yep._ Of course they knew. She shouldn't have been surprised, really. It had only taken them barely over a year to find out about Remus, and by now they had been dealing personally with a werewolf since they were twelve. She looked helplessly up at Harry, but he only made a slightly apologetic face and began rooting around for his glasses. Apparently, he was still too sleep-addled to offer her any assistance. She sighed again.

"Okay… so you've found out about me. What are you going to do about it, then?"

"We aren't going to _do_ anything! We don't- we wouldn't tell anyone about you. We just wanted you to know… that we know." James looked at her sympathetically. "And… well, Remus said we could tell you, so… he's a werewolf, too. And he's our best friend, so… I mean, you know we don't judge you for it or anything, right?"

"Yes, I know you won't judge me. I just… you know there's nothing I can do about any of this, right? You knowing doesn't… well." She trailed off.

"We just want you to know we support you. And that we're your friends, too," Sirius said. "I'm sorry if I've seemed a bit… well, hostile towards you, at all. Something about you was off, and I guess I thought you were onto Remus. I was just…" He trailed off for a moment, as if he was searching for the right words for his thought. "He's my friend," was what he finally settled on. Hermione swallowed, her throat thick with emotion.

"Thank you," she managed in a hoarse voice. "I… I knew about Remus," she confessed. "We… werewolves, we can… tell." That second bit was somewhat of a lie, but seeing as she couldn't exactly confess to the whole time travel thing, it would have to suffice. At her confession, the three Marauders suddenly adopted expressions that ranged from uncomfortable to a strange mix of mischievous anticipation. Hermione felt her suspicion rush back full force.

"Right," Peter said slowly, "about that… You and Remus should really talk."

"Talk? About what? I thought you said he knew about the… well, about me?"

"He does," James assured her, "But still. I just… well, it's probably better if it comes from Moony's mouth, eh?" Sirius looked sharply at James when he said "Moony," and James stuck out his tongue in response. The exchange wasn't lost on Hermione, but she chose to ignore it for the time being.

"Well, if he's the one who needs to talk to me, why are the three of you interrupting my recovery time instead of him?"

At that, the boys looked even more guilty than before. "He, uh… well, he told us not to bother you just now," James admitted. "But we couldn't just _wait!"_

Harry snorted in amusement. "Well where did you tell him you lot are off to, then?"

"Oh, just getting some breakfast," Sirius said flippantly. "We'll just nip down and grab some bacon and by the time we're back he won't have even-"

All the sudden, a tired-sounding voice sounded from the other side of the privacy curtain. "He won't have even _what_ , Sirius Black?"

Sirius paled. "Uh… hey, Moony! We were just on our way out to go, er…. get some… yeah, we were just going." He grabbed the curtains with both hands and pulled them open to reveal an exhausted-looking Remus Lupin, standing outside them in a set of flannel pajamas, his hair sticking up in every direction. Hermione felt her heart melting at the sight.

"I'm sorry that these absolute _idiots_ have interrupted your sleep, Hermione," he said, somehow simultaneously sounding apologetic and shooting a very wolflike glare at his friends. "I thought you lot were going to get breakfast?" He said pointedly.

"Er, yeah, we are," Sirius said with a sheepish grin. He bounced off the bed, earning another glare from Remus when Hermione winced at the movement. Almost as an afterthought, he turned back in her direction. "Want to come eat with us, Harry?"

Harry looked uncertainly at Hermione, and she gave him an encouraging smile. "Go ahead, Harry. I'll be alright." He gave her shoulder one last affectionate squeeze before easing out from under the covers and stretching his arms over his head.

"All right, then," he said with a grin, "I could do with some bacon." With that, the three Marauders and Harry all slipped out through the gap in the privacy curtains, leaving Hermione and Remus alone.

Remus reached out to pull the curtains closed the rest of the way before turning to face Hermione.

"Well," he began awkwardly, "I'm, er… I'm sorry about all that. Sometimes they just… yeah."

She smiled up at him. "It's alright, really. I've felt worse." There were a few beats of awkward silence, then. Remus reached up with one hand to run his fingers through his hair, and Hermione could sense his nerves and his rapidly beating heart. She wondered if he could hear hers.

"You can sit, if you want," she told him, gesturing to the bed beside her. He hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and settling at the foot of the bed, on top of the blankets. He still didn't say anything.

"Peter said you needed to talk to me," she prompted. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes… well, I…" He ran his hand through his hair again. "Look, Hermione… this might be- I don't know, weird to say, but… well… so, you know how we're both werewolves?" He immediately winced at how the words sounded coming out of his mouth. "No, clearly you know we're both werewolves… I meant- I guess what I'm trying to say is- ugh. Okay, have you noticed a _bond_ , a bit of magic, between the two of us? Anything at all?"

Hermione tilted her head at him and drank in the way his heart sounded hammering in his chest and how his eyes were flashing rapidly from soft green to molten gold. He continued in a rush.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but _I've_ felt it, and that's why I acted so strangely around you, understand? I didn't know what was going on and I thought maybe… I didn't know if you were a werewolf, too, or if it was just the mate bond, and I always worry too much, and-"

At that, Hermione cut him off abruptly. "Wait… did you say _mate_ bond?"

Remus squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them they were a bit _wild._ "Yes," he said, his voice far more controlled than his emotions- and Hermione could tell. "Yes, mate bond. I think… You're my mate, Hermione. I know it sounds crazy, but I just- the way I _feel_ around you, the wolf just-"

He continued to ramble, but to Hermione, all his words jumbled together. _Mate bond._ But… but _her_ Remus had told her it was a pack bond… just a pack bond. But what if…

She recalled Dumbledore's words, from just before she had been transported to this timeline. _"Some bonds transcend reality, Hermione…"_

"Hermione?" She was startled from her thoughts by Remus's worried voice, calling her name. "I know this is… it sounds mental, I'm sure, but… don't you feel it?"

Hermione swallowed hard. Sometime in the midst of his rambling, Remus had shifted from the foot of her bed to the center. He was kneeling directly beside her, hands on his thighs, staring at her with a blazing expression that made her shiver.

"I…" She struggled to find the words to respond, and she could feel her face burning hot under the intensity of his gaze. She looked away.

"Hermione," he said again, and when she looked back up at him, his eyes were blazing amber. Before she could say anything else, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. His hands shifted from resting on his thighs to pressing into the pillows on either side of her head, and she could feel his weight against hers as he leaned in. Her heart fluttered in her chest, and almost of its own volition, her hand crept up to settle on his neck, pulling him closer to her. The bond in her chest was flaring stronger than it ever had- it felt as though it was _joined_ with the magic inside Remus, twining together and making everything feel so, so very right.

A quiet growl slipped out from between his lips and he caught her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down hard. She let out a sound somewhere between a yelp and a moan at the sensation, and the noise seemed to snap him back to reality. He pulled away, breathing hard.

"Oh, Merlin," he gasped out. "I… I should apologize, but I'm…"

Hermione reached her other hand up to lace her fingers together behind his neck. "No," she said breathlessly. "No, please don't."


	13. Chapter 13

**NOTE:** A bit of a fluffier chapter in which we get some Harry POV for the first time! I've been thinking of putting a bit more scenes from Harry's POV in future chapters... how do you guys feel about that? Make sure to let me know, because I've already got a scene written for chapter 14 I think you will like! Cheers! xX

 **CHAPTER 13**

 _ **September 9, 1976**_

Harry clambered onto the bench at the Gryffindor table, Sirius seated beside him and Peter and James opposite. He watched as James ran a hand through his already unruly (and intimately familiar, thanks to the fact Harry had had the luck to inherit it) mess of black hair, just as he'd done in Snape's Pensieve memory back in fifth year. It was still a bit unnerving every time Harry stopped to consider the fact that he was now living in the same era as his father- attending classes and meals with him, even living in the same bloody _dorm_. The two of them were decent acquaintances, by now- maybe even _friends,_ especially now that most of the drama surrounding Hermione's werewolf secret was out in the open. There was still the whole 'I'm-actually-your-son-twenty-years-from-now' thing, of course- and that, in addition to a few _other_ things, was leaving Harry feeling incredibly confused and guilty about his own emotions. For years- his entire childhood, really- Harry had desperately wished to have known his parents. He would have been elated to have the same opportunity he had now been thrust into. And in truth, he'd been savoring nearly every moment of it so far. Sure, things had been rough while Sirius was acting suspicious of them, but that was to be expected, given the shoddy cover story they'd been forced to cook up nearly on the spot. Now that the rest of the Marauders knew about Hermione, and she would hopefully have Remus to help her feel a little more well adjusted, Harry found himself looking forward to the opportunity to spend the time with James. Maybe even Lily, as well. _But things aren't so simple, are they,_ he thought wanly. With one of his biggest immediate worries- Hermione- presently taken care of, Harry was left to think back on everything that had been left behind. The thoughts were creeping up on him and sending him into what seemed like a belated bout of panic.

When Dumbledore's mysterious golden cylinder had transported Harry and Hermione to this new timeline, they'd left an entire other one behind. One where- sure, a lot of his loved ones were no longer living, including his parents- but at least _Voldemort_ was no longer a threat. Not to mention that they'd left Ron, and Ginny, and _Sirius,_ and so many others… Of course Sirius was alive in this timeline, as well, but he didn't know Harry, not really. Dumbledore told them in no uncertain terms that the old timeline was no longer in existence and that they were a part of _this_ one now, so surely wanting to assimilate wasn't a bad thing. It wasn't as simple as it had seemed, though. There was still a war raging, here. Harry had had enough of being the savior, the _Chosen One,_ but it wouldn't be right to just sit back and let things happen when he had the knowledge to stop it. He wanted nothing more than to sit by and savor the time with his family and become close friends with James, Lily, and their friends… well, except for _Peter,_ the traitorous fucking rat. What to do about Peter was yet another problem.

With all those thoughts filling his head and causing him no small amount of stress, Harry found himself zoning out at the breakfast table.

"Oi, Granger!" Harry snapped back to the present to find Sirius waving a piece of sausage impatiently in front of his face. "You alright there, mate?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired. I was up all night worrying about Mi- about Hermione."

At that, Sirius exchanged pointed glances with Peter and James. Harry very much hoped it was due to the fact that _they_ had also been up all night, and not because of his near-slip with Hermione's name.

"Anyway," he said hurriedly, trying to detract attention from his idiocy, "did any of you do the Potions essay? I was too distracted to do it yesterday and, er… you know." Peter waved a hand dismissively.

"Moony will've done it," he said confidently. "We'll just copy right quick before we head to class."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Remus did it even though he knew he wouldn't have to go to class today? And he'll _let you copy?_ My sister's probably got hers done but she'd hex me if I asked to see it."

Sirius gave a snort that sounded suspiciously like _"Bloody swot,"_ making the other boys roll their eyes.

"Who cares about _Potions,_ " James said dramatically. "What we _should_ be talking about is the fact we've got a Hogsmeade weekend, and I'm going with Lily."

"She _said yes?!"_ Sirius exclaimed at the same time as Peter yelped "You've already asked her?!"

"Well… no," James admitted. "But she's going to. I _know_ she will. I just… need to figure the best way to do it. Ask her, I mean."

" _You_ can't think of a way to ask out _Evans?"_ Sirius asked in disbelief. James scowled at him.

"I thought you and Lily were already together," Harry said, slightly confused. The fact that Lily was on good terms with the Marauders had left him to assume that his parents had already sorted their differences and become a couple. James ran a hand through his hair and gave a weak laugh.

"No," he sighed. "No, we're not."

"Not for lack of trying on Prongs' part," Peter supplied helpfully, earning himself a glare from James.

"Look, Lily is… I've liked her for a long time, right?" He ruffled his hair again, but his expression had turned earnest. "I've been a bit of an idiot to her in the past and so it's only been this year that we've started even hanging round one another. I'd really like her to come out with me though, but… I don't want to ruin whatever it is we've got now, you know? That's why I haven't asked until now."

Harry grinned. Sure, he'd heard from Sirius (in the past… future?) that his father would talk about Lily to anyone who'd listen, but surely the fact that James was asking for a bit of advice was a good sign for the beginning of their friendship.

"Have you tried just… _asking_ her?"

"I've bloody well asked her hundreds of times since first year," James grumbled. "It's only recently she's stopped hexing me."

"No, I mean… just _ask_ her. Not in front of an audience, not making a huge production of it or anything. No flowers, sweets, just… just tell her that you like her and ask her to come to Hogsmeade with you. Have you tried that?"

"I… no."

"Well, there you have it, then. I'll bet you a Galleon she says yes." It wasn't until after he'd made the bet that Harry remembered he didn't _have_ any Galleons here, but James was already nodding enthusiastically, confident smirk back on his face.

"Right! You're on, Granger! I'll ask her tomorrow, then."

o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o.o

The boys returned to the Hospital wing to find the curtains around Remus's bed still open, the bed conspicuously empty.

"Huh," said James, "That talk of theirs is going a bit long, don't you think? Hope everything's gone alright."

They'd brought a heaping plate of bacon and the famed blueberry crepes as a peace offering- Sirius swore that it was the key to convincing Remus to let the four of them see his Potions essay. He strode confidently up to the drawn curtains of Hermione's bed and yanked them aside, talking all the while.

"Oh Moony, my love, my furry friend, my best mate ever! We've brought you some bacon, and we even made sure it's undercooked how you- hey!" He abruptly stopped talking when the four of them were met with the sight in front of them. Remus was indeed in Hermione's bed- but their talk appeared to have long since been over.

"Oi!" Harry shouted, though it was with a somewhat uncertain grin. "Get your bloody wolf paws off my sister!"

The two of them broke apart, both gasping for air.

 _"Harry,"_ Hermione said exasperatedly at the same time as Remus said _"Not so bloody loud!"_

"There's no one else in the Wing besides Pomfrey," James said with a shrug. "Anyway, nice one, Moony! Are you in a good enough mood now to let us see your Potions homework or do you still want the bacon?"

"Of course I still want the bacon," Remus snapped. "Hand it over."

Sirius deposited the plate on the bedside table where the bacon was quickly dug into by a starving werewolf. Hermione reached over Remus to snatch a crepe and Harry tried ( _hard_ ) to ignore the way his former professor was eyeing his sister as she licked the mess of filling from her fingers.

"Speaking of Pomfrey," he said loudly, "Has she not come to yell at you for being out of your own bed, yet?"

Remus waved a piece of bacon dismissively. "Nah," he said, "she's probably still in her office doing-"

Suddenly, a stern voice interrupted whatever Remus had been about to suggest that Madam Pomfrey was doing.

 _"She_ is right here," said Madam Pomfrey herself, gesturing with her handful of potions bottles. "And _she_ is insisting that you get back in your own bed, Mr. Lupin, before I send for the headmaster!"

"But-"

"No buts!"

Something told Harry that Dumbledore wouldn't be as concerned with the two werewolves as Madam Pomfrey was anticipating. All the same, he held his tongue as Remus gave Hermione one last lingering kiss on the forehead before shuffling across the way to tuck himself back under his own blankets, breakfast plate in hand.

The boys held in their snickers until the disgruntled mediwitch had rounded the corner again, then burst into laughter.

"You'll shut up if you want my essay," Remus grumbled. The other boys immediately obliged. "It's in my bag," he sighed. "On my bed in the dorm."

"Right." James stood up with a salute, followed by Sirius and Peter. "There's only an hour until Potions, so I'm off. You coming, Granger?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, just give me a few minutes. I'll meet you up there."

"Go easy on her, mate," Sirius said with a laugh. "Usually I'd tell you to blame the wolf, but seeing as there's two of them-"

"Get out of here, Sirius Black!" Hermione snapped from her place in bed. Her voice sounded absolutely vicious but the way her eyes were sparkling with mirth sent a rush of relief to Harry's chest. He watched as his father and friends made their way out of the Hospital wing, laughing all the way, and snatched a crepe from Remus's plate before sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed.

"Soooooooo," he said, eyebrows raised.

She reached over to shove at him and looked pleadingly across the way at Remus. "Could you give us a moment, Remus?" She asked, cheeks pink.

"Er, of course," he said. With that, Hermione pulled Harry the rest of the way onto her bed by the sleeve of his t-shirt and yanked the curtains closed around them.

" _So,_ " he said again. Hermione cleared her throat.

"We, um," she started, "may have been wrong about the pack bond." When Harry only looked at her questioningly, she turned even pinker. "It's apparently a _mate_ bond."

" _Mate bond?!"_ Harry spluttered. Loudly.

"I can hear you!" came Remus's voice from the other side of the curtain. Hermione rolled her eyes and cast a quick _Muffliato._

 _"Yes,_ mate bond," she said. "Remus and I are… are mates. I mean- Harry, it would explain everything- why I was so awful before we came back, and why it feels different from the bonds with you and Sirius. It was never sealed because Remus- _other_ Remus- never told me, which I'm quite mad about, by the way. But I could have _died_ , Harry, it's probably why Dumbledore intended to send me here and-"

"Slow down, slow down! I believe you, Mini-Moony. It's just- it's a lot, you know? What do you even know about mate bonds?"

"Pretty much nothing," she admitted. "Just what Remus told me just now."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, which is also pretty much nothing, judging from what we walked in on."

Hermione hit him again. "Hush, you. I was hoping you'd be willing to help me research a bit once I get out of here?"

"Quality sibling research time?" Harry smirked. "Hey, don't look at me like that- of course I'll help you research. You wouldn't be Hermione otherwise."

"I can't believe Remus didn't tell me," Hermione moaned. "Before, I mean… This is the sort of thing that would have been great to know! Everything- everything could have been _different_."

"He probably felt weird about it because of the whole Professor thing… and the age difference."

"Well, he didn't have to _lie_ to me! It was only nineteen years!"

"Yes, _only,_ " Harry drawled.

He watched as Hermione raised her eyes heavenward for what seemed like the millionth time in ten minutes.

"Look, Hermione, everything's going to be alright," he told her. "You… I mean, you like him, right?"

"Well… _yeah_ ," she said.

"Then what's wrong?"

"I…"

"Exactly. We…. Well, look, I know what you're thinking. I've got a lot I'm worried about, too… I mean, the war, and…" He trailed off for a moment. "Just, there's a lot. But… we're here now, aren't we? We might as well- I don't know, _try_ to have a happy life here. At least until we look into the whole going-back thing."

Hermione looked stricken at the mere mention of going back. The words seemed strange even in Harry's own mouth, but he didn't stop to consider, he only leaned to the side to rest his head on Hermione's shoulder.

"Everything's fine," he said again. She leaned her head on top of his.

"I suppose you're right," she conceded. "For now."

Harry smirked. "Does this mean I can copy your Potions essay?"

"Harry Potter, you get upstairs and get it off your bloody godfather before I hex you."


End file.
